


The Precarious Balance

by booch06



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Ron Weasley, Angst, Anxiety, Assault, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Flashbacks, Graphic Description, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Post-War, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28737183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booch06/pseuds/booch06
Summary: Hermione was perfectly happy with Ron, until his insecurities started manifesting into violence; one, specifically about a certain Malfoy. Even with unlikely Slytherin allies, will Hermione be able to escape the abuse or will she be stuck forever?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 98
Kudos: 199
Collections: Dramione





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first fanfic, I'm not a writer but this idea just would not leave my head. Please please review, I would love to know what you guys think.
> 
> Anywayy, I'm so glad you're here. A couple things -
> 
> First, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters but this story idea is my own. We don't stan JKR's TERF behaviour on this account but do acknowledge that she wrote the franchise and all the issues in the series that come with that.
> 
> Second, MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING for abuse/assault. Please please mind your triggers and the tags.
> 
> Third, this is a dramione fic, so take that as you may (ie, you may want to stop reading should you be a fan of Ron)
> 
> ENJOY

Hermione squinted at the timeline on her desk, rereading it for the millionth time, trying to piece together the Gringotts robbery. Her brain hurt and her eyes were watering. How had Gringotts been robbed on a night it was closed. No people entering or exiting. The guards were stationed there all night, it seems like the robbers had simply disappeared. She looked back at the security measures, ones she had already memorized, and read them again. No apparation, no accio, no floo, no windows. Nothing that would let someone in. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the time, ten to 12. Hermione sighed and packed up her things, heading out to lunch with Ron. She hadn't seen her boyfriend, in nearly 4 days while he was visiting Harry and Ginny in Wales where Ginny played quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies. Her excitement grew as she thought of seeing him again.

"Ms. Granger, a word." She heard almost at the lifts, so close to leaving. She sighed and placed a smile on her face before turning.

"Mrs. Parsons, yes of course." Kendra Parsons, her boss, also a massive pain in her ass, ushered into an empty conference room.

"It seems that, today, it has been two entire weeks since the Gringotts robbery, and I have no new information to give the authorities. The Minister of Magic is breathing down my neck Ms. Granger. I have told him that the brightest witch of her age is on it, I hope that that was not a lie." Kendra's stale coffee breath washed over Hermione and she tried not to stare at the lipstick on her teeth.

"I apologize for the delay ma'am; I have been working extra hours to solve it. It just seems like a perfect job so far; it has proven difficult to conclude."

"I don't need your excuses Ms. Granger; you have another week at the latest. I would hate for your responsibilities to be reverted to monitoring the misuse of magic again. Do not let me down." Mrs. Parsons walked out of the room leaving Hermione with a growing pressure in her chest.

Hermione reached for the nearest chair and sat, putting her head in her hands and swallowing away the panic that was bubbling up. She heard the door open and immediately straightened, thinking that Kendra was back. "Ma'am I –", she stopped when she noticed that it was a tall blonde man instead of the brunette she was expecting, "Oh it's just you." She sighed and slid back into her chair with a creak.

"Granger. It may be _just_ me but I do have this room reserved, if you don't mind having your little breakdown somewhere else." Malfoy stated, his lips pressed into a line.

"Yeah yeah I'm leaving Malfoy, don't get your knickers in a knot." She moved to arrange her files that had dispersed before freezing, an idea coming to her head. "Hey listen, you have experience solving robberies right? After working on the incident in Romania?"

His face grew wary, "Uh…yes?"

"I've been given the Gringotts case and it's proved harder than I thought. Do you think…can you perhaps…um…it's okay if you don't have time…actually never mind, you're probably really busy. Sorry I asked." Hermione scrambled to collect her things.

"You didn't actually ask," Malfoy smirked. "But, out of the kindness of my huge heart, I will be delighted to take a look at the case that has stumped Hermione Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "How thoughtful." She slid the file across the table, "I'll come down to your office after lunch if that works," before finally leaving to meet Ron.

It wasn't until the lift was halfway down that she realized that she had just accidentally told him that she knew where his office was. Hermione leaned against the elevator and sighed, the last thing Malfoy needed was another ego boost and she had just given it to him on a silver platter.

The elevator doors opened, and she saw Ron standing at the fountain, messing around with a cell phone she had forced him to get to stay in touch. Immediately, her shoulders relaxed, and the stress flooded off of her. Ron turned to look up and burst into a grin, arms wide. Hermione had to stop herself from running through the Ministry as she rushed to Ron's arms. She melted into him, smelling the familiar deep rooibos and cinnamon as she buried deeper into his chest.

"I missed you," he said into her head, "I hope you know that I'm never letting go. You should just quit now."

Hermione grinned and pushed him off to get a look at his face before closing her eyes and tilting her head up, waiting. His lips came down softly and she melted a little more, "I'm good with this never letting go plan," Hermione mumbled into his mouth.

"Oi! Get a room!" She heard from somewhere behind her, not bothering to look. She felt Ron grin on her lips before they finally separated.

"We should probably go get that lunch," he said. Hermione pouted and Ron placed another quick peck on her lips before dragging her out, "We have all night 'Mione."

Hermione stabbed at her lettuce while ranting about her Gringotts project to Ron, getting more frustrated by the second. "It's impossible Ron, there were no witnesses, no proof, nothing that seemed off. The gold just disappeared from the vault. Kendra today had the audacity to threaten to demote me, like she could solve this any better. I don't know what I'm missing, I've gone through all the documents, have interviewed the guards on duty, and even visited Gringotts but nothing." Hermione took a breath, smashing lettuce into her mouth and gulped it down, barely chewing. "I'm so desperate I ended up asking Malfoy for help and the git was so arrogant about it. I even – ," she paused at Ron's hard jaw and tense eyes. "Wha- are you okay?"

"You and Malfoy are going to be working together?" He questioned.

"Uh, I guess so? I'll probably never see him, I just wanted a second opinion. Ron, what's wrong?" His eyes were hard, his jaw still clenched.

"Yeah, sorry Hermione, you know how I get with him. I just don't like the idea of you guys alone."

"I know Ron, I dislike it as well, but I do need to get this project solved."

Ron nodded. "I know but that doesn't mean I hate it any less." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

A thought clicked in Hermione head as she gasped, smirking. Was he perhaps _jealous_ of Malfoy? She felt a giddiness bubble up and Ron looking back at her warily. "Ron…are you...jealous?" He narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to say something before Hermione reached out and caressed his cheek. "Ron, listen to me, I love you. More than anything. He's nothing more than something icky on my shoe." Ron gave a small smile at her analogy before taking a breath,

"I know 'Mione. It just gives me a bad feeling; promise me you'll keep your distance from him?"

Hermione deepened their eye contact, "Of course, we only converse when we absolutely need to." Hermione was uneasy at her untruth, but she didn't let it show. Her and Malfoy had been running into each other quite a bit lately, and with their case, it would probably happen more often. Ron just didn't have to know; it would probably just hurt it more than anything and it's not like she could afford to forgo Malfoy's help.

Hermione finished up her lunch, promising Ron that she'd try to get home early tonight. She was still thinking about Ron's sudden shift in mood when she knocked on Malfoy's door, opening it when she heard an, "Enter."

"Ah Granger. So, you do know where my office is." He motioned her to take a seat in front of his desk.

"Yes of course, I learnt it when I was picking mine as I naturally wanted to be as far as possible." She took a seat in his deep leather chairs and had to stop a gasp from escaping at how comfortable they were. His office was larger, larger than hers, and contained an enormous bookshelf that seemed to be built into the wall. She internally grinned at the color scheme, while he seems to have left the Slytherin green behind, he had adopted the darker browns and blacks as his own, how predictable. She inhaled slightly and the minty, woodsy scent overwhelmed her immediately.

He chuckled, "Glad to know I have such an impact on your life." Hermione opened her mouth to argue but he pulled out the case file, immediately diving into questions. Hermione spent the better part of the afternoon explaining everything she learned and everything she couldn't fit into the file. They went through some theories together, ones that Hermione had already considered of course, but nonetheless ended up at the same dead ends she had. She was, although, quite surprised at his ability to pick up her thought processes and seemed that they were always on the same page. She thought back to how she had to baby step Ron and Harry through her theories over the years and how much easier it would have been if Malfoy was there instead. Hermione stopped abruptly at this thought, shaking it out of her head. Was she going crazy after one day of working with him? She checked the time and noticed that it was almost 5pm.

"I have to head home but tomorrow?" She asked him.

"Believe it or not, I do actually have my own responsibilities during work Granger. Are there some cats in a burning building this evening that you need to save?"

"No," she said curtly, although Hermione wanted to, she didn't have time to banter back, "Ron's waiting for me at home," she finished. "I could meet you before work tomorrow though. Say 6am?"

Malfoy smirked, "Of course, the Weasel. Tomorrow at 6 works fine."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Do not insult Ron in front of me. I'm not sure if you forgot the feeling of being punched but I will gladly remind you."

Malfoy raised his hands defensively, eyes wide, "Calm down mama bear, it was a joke."

Hermione grabbed her things and stormed out, not bothering to close his door behind her.

* * *

The smell of rose petals and cinnamon hit her as soon as she opened her door to her flat. There were petals scattered along the floor like a runway and she could hear pots and pans from the kitchen.

"Ron?" She called waiting by the door, not wanting to mess up any of the décor. She heard clattering and Ron swung down the hallway almost losing his footing. A giggle escaped her at his crazy. His hair was dishevelled, his chest panting, and his cheeks glowed red. Hermione slowly took in sight and another laugh escaped when she looked at his outfit. She covered her mouth, taking in the apron covered in flour and some odd colored liquids with the words _Queen of the Kitchen_ peeking out from under.

"Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?" She asked with an attempted wary face, but Ron's grin broke her facade.

"Come on, come on!" Ron said, grabbing her arm and she was whisked into the monstrosity that was her kitchen. There were broken eggs on the counter, flour scattered across every surface and even a pasta noodle stuck to the wall. Ron picked her up with ease and placed her on the only clean surface of the counter.

"I know you've been stressed recently so I wanted to do something nice and dad suggested a muggle meal thing which I thought was a great idea but I forgot that I don't know anything about muggle cooking so I went to this bakery store place and the lady there, Hermione, you'd have loved her she was so nice, anyway, so she suggested I cook this pasta thing and a pie and oh even told me that I should get an apron and this was the only one they had, so then when I home, I -", Ron was still rambling when Hermione's eyes pricked. She had never had someone that cared this much for her, that went through such lengths just to make her happy. Hermione grabbed the top of his shirt and pulled him close planting a messy kiss onto his lips. Ron's breath hitched in surprise but soon he relaxed, grabbing her waist and pulling her close, his hands wide on her back.

Their kiss deepened and Hermione's lower stomach coiled. Ron was breathing heavily into her mouth, exploring each section with his tongue and Hermione's hands travelled to his hair, gripping with a need. His mouth travelled down her chin, along her jawline and he gently sucked under her ear. Hermione moaned; she needed more. Her hands travelled under his shirt, clutching at the supple feel of his soft skin that molded to her wishes. She roamed down, toying with the edge of his trousers when Ron groaned with impatience. He grabbed her against him, picking her up off the counter, her legs wrapping around his waist, their lips meeting again and an urgency returning. His exhale was her inhale, bodies acting as one.

Ron pressed her against the wall and undid his trousers, his fingers moving her knickers aside from under her skirt with ease. She quickly muttered a lubrication charm and Ron pulled back, eyes staring at her intensely and she nodded, gasping, as he let himself into her. His movements were rough, eyes shut and Hermione's coil tightened as they claimed this part of her wall. She didn't expect a release as it was rare for her that one ever came but that's not to say that the anticipation of one wasn't infinitely fun on its own. Her gasps grew higher and Ron's movements became sharp until, finally, with a swift upwards motion Ron crumbled into her.

"Merlin's beard Hermione," he gasped cleaning himself up, "If I knew you'd react like this I'd have done cooked ages ago. Remind me to send a thank you to dad," he finished with a chuckle.

She wacked his arm, "Ew, Ron. Don't you dare."

Ron let out a laugh and grabbed her again muttering into her neck, "Did I tell you how much I missed you."

She giggled and wrapped her arms around him, "I don't seem to recall, you might, perhaps, have to say it again."

* * *

Hermione checked her watch again as she stood in the lobby of the ministry, it still read 5:59am, same as 10 seconds ago. She bounced on her feet. Her morning had gone perfectly except for when she told Ron that she was leaving early for a morning meeting with Kendra, a lie which was now manifesting as anxiety. Her nerves transitioned into anger as her clock hit 6. The git was late. Finally, at 6:02, the familiar blonde boy _sauntered_ into the lobby. Hermione seethed, the _audacity_ on this spoiled brat, she could kick something.

"Morning. Why do you look like you just swallowed a bee?" Malfoy asked.

"Because _someone_ was _late!"_ Hermione exclaimed.

Malfoy doubled back and looked at his watch, slowly looking back up to her face with amusement, "Oh don't tell me you're that type…nevermind, of course you are exactly that type."

"What type would that be?" She spat.

"The – ."

"I don't have time for this," she interrupted and marched away. She thought she heard him mutter something about a stick up somewhere, but she refused ask and give him the satisfaction.

Hermione led them to the same conference room Kendra had lectured her in. She told Malfoy it was because it's easier to access from the lobby but really it was for her. She felt a little easier lying to Ron when she wasn't spending her days in an office surrounded by his stupid minty aromas and ridiculously comfy seats. Malfoy pulled out various parchments of his ideas and began explaining them.

"This must have taken you forever…" She trailed off.

"I simply had nothing better to do."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is it that hard for you to admit that you wanted to help."

Malfoy scoffed, "Wanted? Wanted is a big word Granger. If I recall correctly, you basically begged me to, how could I say no."

"Something tells me you have no problem saying no."

"Something tells me you're a pain in the ass. Anyway, I was in debt. After this, consider us even."

Hermione's eyes widened. She hadn't thought he remembered. Her mind travelled back to eighth year when she had returned to Hogwarts to finish her studies. Both Harry and Ron had not, so she was alone in the castle that year. Her and Ron weren't officially together either, both reeling with loss, they had needed some time apart.

_Hermione woke up with the sun beating down on her and birds chirping. Looking over, she saw that it was 6:30am. She still had two hours before she had to be at breakfast at the Great Hall but knowing her, she wasn't getting any more sleep. Hermione groaned into her pillow, exhausted with the day already._

_She was reading and picking away at her breakfast, when she felt the hair on her neck stand up. She looked around and locked eyes with a blonde boy two tables down. Malfoy. Her eyes narrowed, what did he want. He sneered at her and looked back at the Slytherins next to him, diving into their conversation like nothing had happened. Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course, even though they were in their eighth year technically, both 18 now, Draco was still a massive pain in her ass. Somethings never change. She huffed into her book and continued reading about the uses of gillywead, ignoring when the hair on her neck stood up again._

_The rest of her day passed the same as any others, she went to class, did her homework, ate when she was told and headed to the library, planning on escaping the anguish that was her life with a simple fiction novel for the rest of the evening. Hermione had just finished the first couple chapters of her novel, enjoying it so far, when a shadow came over her. She looked up and made eye contact with the same grey eyes she had that morning at breakfast. "What Malfoy?" she said, enunciating._

_He smirked. "Is this how the Golden Girl greets people now?"_

_Hermione rolled her eyes, "Yes, when the people are stalking me." She looked back down into her novel, satisfied that Malfoy couldn't want anything important. She felt him shift but he didn't leave. She inhaled and looked back up, ready to let him have it but there was a change in his eyes. A certain uncertainty. Hermione softened, "What is it?" Malfoy clenched his jaw and muttered a_ forget it _but_ _before he whisked away from the library, a bright yellow parchment fell from his hands. He was long gone by the time Hermione opened her mouth to say something so she walked over and opened it, revealing a letter._

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

Your paper on the comparison of muggle electricity and magic was abysmal. I would have normally given you a 0 but as receiving a NEWT in Muggle Studies was deemed mandatory at your trial, I will provide you with the chance to rewrite. I will be expecting a polished paper by winter holidays.

Regards,

Professor Trent

Muggle Studies

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 _Hermione read it twice before sitting back down, gears churning. She had heard that Malfoy was given a full pardon under the conditions that he was to return to Hogwarts and excel at Muggle Studies while being on his best behavior. So, he was struggling and came to her for help. Of course, he would, the only thing he deemed note-worthy about her was that she was a muggleborn. She grinned, finding amusement in the fact that_ he _needed_ her _. He wasn't able to spit it out though, she wondered if dropping the letter wasn't an accident. A ploy maybe where she would be forced to approach him and offer her help. Well, she huffed to herself, she wasn't the same Gryffindor that went around tying everyone's shoes for them. Not anymore at least, the war had taken care of that. If he needed help, he would have to suck it up and ask. She settled back into her novel with a smirk still on her face, for once, looking forward to the next day._

* * *

_Hermione headed down to breakfast holding various textbooks against her chest, along with a certain canary yellow letter rested on the outside, allowing for perfect recognition should anyone know what it was. She bit down a smirk, two could play at this game Malfoy. Hermione walked into the great hall with a fixed gaze on her usual seat at the Gryffindor table, not looking at anything or anyone else. She was drinking her morning coffee, well into her novel when she felt his presence. There was no mistaking the bergamot peppermint scent that filled her nose and she had to stop herself from inhaling._

_"_ _Oh hello Malfoy...what brings you here?" Hermione asked with an innocent expression. His eyes were narrowed._

_"_ _You have my letter Granger. Wasn't aware that thievery was a Gryffindor trait."_

_Hermione faltered, her brain going through the ways she could handle this. She could continue being ignorant, but he already seemed angry…though he was the one that needed help so was it really her issue that this man had no balls…talk about not being a Gryffindor. She took a deep breath, ready to play the I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about card but Malfoy spoke before she could._

_"_ _Cut the crap, I know you read it. Will you help or not."_

_Her breath hitched in her throat, shocked by his bluntness. "Uh…with your muggle paper?"_

_"_ _No with my fashion sense", he rolled his eyes, "Of course with my paper, I thought you were the brightest witch of your age."_

_Hermione snorted and tried to recover with a cough. "Yeah, I guess I could make time. How's the library after dinner?"_

_Malfoy nodded with a guarded gaze, but she thought she noticed the faintest bit of amusement in his eyes before he whipped around and left._

* * *

_Hermione had been standing at the door of the library for what felt like ages, trying to figure out how to walk in, how to say hello. What if he was already sitting? Should she just go over…what if he wasn't, what table should she pick? Hermione shook her head, this was ridiculous, she had helped defeat Voldemort, what was Draco in comparison? She took a breath and walked inside._

_The library was fairly busy, relative to her normal midnight study sessions at least. Hermione surveyed the area, not yet seeing him and started walking deeper through the room. She had just turned around the last corner when his blonde peaked through. He was sitting as far away as he could from everyone, crouched over a desk with books spilling everywhere. Hermione walked over, unsure of if she should say hello or just sit down and landed on clearing her throat when she was close._

_Malfoy looked up with tired eyes but the harshness from the morning was gone. He nodded and went back to his parchment. Hermione stammered, had he changed his mind? She had said today right? Was she supposed to come back later? She should've just sat down at the beginning. Hermione teetered on her feet and Malfoy looked up again._

_"_ _Granger, if you needed a formal invitation, you should've said something. I would've owled you one."_

_He sounded annoyed. "Well, Malfoy, usually people do more than nod when greeting someone so excuse_ me _for_ your _lack of manners." She said, exasperated but moved to sit next to him. She thought she saw a hint of a smile but when she turned to face him it was gone. "So, tell me about your paper."_

_Malfoy reached under some books and pulled out parchment, handing it to Hermione. "See for yourself", he said, "I thought it was perfectly satisfactory, but Professor Trent is an evidently an imbecile."_

_Hermione scoffed. "Yes, I'm sure that he's the problem here", she mumbled and took his paper into her hands._

_His paper begun with an 'explanation' of electricity, mentioning how there were people that worked in muggle homes that lived in attics and used a 'by-tercycle' to create power. He then elaborated that they would use this to charge miniature devices that they could talk to people with, which she believed he was talking about cell phones until his paper started on how these devices could be used to read people's minds and hypnotize people to do things. Malfoy ended with an explanation that while muggles were attempting to do things that wizards could, they were failing and would never reach the same level of power as magic._

_Hermione finished and stared at the parchment for a minute longer, trying to gather her thoughts and not burst out laughing. "I-uh", she started._

_Malfoy looked at her, waiting. "Yes..."_

_"_ _I mean it's not horrendous…the facts are kind of off. Well, very off. Okay so I don't think there's anything factually accurate in there but technically your structure isn't bad. I mean…okay if you think about it, electricity can be made by bicycles…though you spelt it wrong…and uh…devices do exist that allow for communication between muggles, though they do not read people's minds or anything like that. And though your ending is extremely discriminatory against muggles I guess it's a…way…to wrap up an essay. Good display of…opinion?" She looked up at him, grimacing, waiting for his reaction._

_His eyes were wide on her and he suddenly let out a chuckle, except it didn't stop there and it wasn't long before he was fully laughing at their table. Hermione's lips turned up and soon she was too dying at the absurdity that was the paper she had just read, two crazies cackling in a library._

_"_ _I-I-I'm sorry", Hermione tried between her giggles, "I wasn't expecting something so", she launched into a burst of snorts, "interesting", she finished._

_Malfoy doubled over, shaking the whole table with his laugh, "Hermione, I can't", he breathed._

_She froze, her laugh stopped in her chest, did he just call her Hermione? He looked over at her, wondering about the sudden change in atmosphere when it dawned on him what he had just done. Malfoy cleared his throat. "Yes…uh, the paper…so…how do you spell bycertycle."_

_Hermione took a breath, pushing away everything happening in her brain and leaned over his paper again, writing the proper spelling over his. "There."_

_"_ _Right, okay. What else?"_

_Hermione opened her mouth, unsure of where to start, still shaken by earlier. He was closer now, inspecting his parchment required him leaning into her. Woody peppermint filled her nose again and she stared down, desperate to figure out what was happening. "I think it would be beneficial if I were to write my notes alone and then we could reconvene to discuss it together", she stated._

_"_ _Whatever you say…Granger", he breathed near her ear. Hermione's brain fogged and she got up, grabbing her satchel and his paper, stumbling out of the table. She turned to nod at him before leaving and there was no mistaking the amusement on his face. She spun and rushed from the library._

_It wasn't until she reached her dorm when she finally sat down, allowing herself to go over what just happened. He had said her name. Did that mean something? He didn't seem like he did it on purpose so maybe it was just an accident. Did this mean he thought about her as Hermione then? No Hermione, he doesn't think about you period. She moved to the rest of the evening, methodically processing her reactions to him and his changes in attitude. She sighed, still as confused as she was when she came in, but two points were becoming glaringly obvious._

_1._ _She had laughed tonight. Fully laughed. She couldn't remember the last time she did that._

_2._ _She was, for some reason, impacted by Malfoy. While she didn't know what was happening to her during these times of influence, Malfoy certainly noticed the shift and he was using it. Well, she thought, she would just need to find a way to impact him the same way. An eye for an eye, right Malfoy?_

_She fell back into her pillows, thinking until she fell asleep._

* * *

_Hermione slowly awoke, surprised by how much sun was shining into her dormitory. She rolled over and checked the time. 8:50am. Her sleep left her immediately and she jolted up, realizing that she was missing breakfast and would be late for her 9am charms class. She threw on random clothes, barely checking her appearance and sprinted to the class. She was panting when she walked in, and the eighth years glanced up, the class already in session._

_"_ _Glad you could join us", Professor Flitwick said, "I believe there is a seat at the back."_

_Hermione nodded, her cheeks burning and mumbled a sorry before making her way to the back, not making eye contact with anyone. She sat down and pulled out her supplies before finally turning to see that no other than Malfoy was sitting next to her. With a stupid smirk on his face. He leaned in close, "Nice outfit…", he whispered, "…Hermione."_

_Hermione looked down and noticed, for the first time, that instead of her normal Gryffindor robes, she had thrown on muggle clothes. Her cheeks burned again, cursing this day and the stupid arrogant boy she had to spend the next hour with. She clenched her jaw and took a breath; she would not let him have the satisfaction. She turned, looking directly into his grey eyes, "Thank you. I was in such a rush I wasn't sure what I threw on." She looked at him from under her lashes, trying something she had seen Ginny often do at Harry and whispered, "I think I forgot a bra."_

_His smirk fell from his face and his eyes darkened. Hermione had to stop herself from smiling,_

_"_ _Oh? Did I say something wrong Draco?"_

_His breath hitched, his eyes narrowing, "Watch it Granger," he said through his teeth and turned back to Professor Flitwick. Hermione looked back down onto her parchment, unable to suppress her smile. She had succeeded. Hermione wasn't even sure what she just did…was it flirting? She shook her head slightly and directed her attention to the Professor, falling into her studious self effortlessly._

* * *

_Hermione spent the whole morning giddy with success. She walked into lunch, starving from not having breakfast in the morning and dove in, pausing only to catch her owl deliveries. One letter with HERMIONE written in Ron's messy scrawl caught her eye. Weird, she thought, he never wrote to her. Their relationship from before had taken a halt when he took his Auror position and she went back to school. They were on rocky terms anyway with Ron still grieving for Fred and Hermione for her parents, whose memories never did come back. She opened the letter and read on._

Hermione,

I hope you're doing well. I've been attempting to write this bloody thing for ages but couldn't get the words out right. You were always the writer after all. Listen, I've spent the past several months chasing criminals through whole bloody globe and it's taken me almost dying at the hands of one to realize that I don't want to spend another day without you. You're all I think about and merlin's beard it's annoying. I need to see you. I love you. I'll be at Hogsmeade tomorrow evening if you can make it. Please do.

Ron

_Hermione gulped. Her chest felt like it was going to explode, she hadn't realized how much she missed her best friend. His familiar scrawl almost brought a tear to her eye before she blinked it away. Of course she loved him too, she always had and she was sure…she thought…that she wanted Ron back as much as he wanted her but for some reason, her mind kept travelling to the whispers and laughter in a dark library corner with a peppermint scented boy. Hermione folded up the parchment and tucked it safely in her satchel. She would deal with this later._

* * *

_Hermione found herself at the library doors that evening, teetering, unsure if she'd find Malfoy in there. They hadn't discussed when they'd meet again but she was finished writing her notes in and it would be beneficial for him to get a head start in fixing it up. She walked in confidently, heading straight to their table from the other night and couldn't suppress the disappointment when she noticed it was empty. She sat down anyways, thinking that it was a good place to get some work done as any other. She was an hour into reviewing her charms notes when the screech of the chair in front of her startled her. She jumped in her seat and looked to see Malfoy sitting._

_"_ _Oh sure, yes, please make yourself at home Malfoy."_

_He smirked. "I was planning on it." So, she guessed he was over his mood from charms._

_"_ _I finished writing my notes." She started, handing him his paper, "I've circled in red areas that are factually incorrect, blue represents discriminatory words or phrases, and green are places that I thought you should actually keep." She then handed him another parchment and continued, "I've written some ideas that you could explore and…" She pulled out a stack of books, placing them on his hands, "I've also taken liberty of finding texts that cover electricity and magic relations and have tabbed pages that you may want to study."_

_Malfoy looked stunned, "Almost took my bloody hands off with your books." He muttered, glancing at the height of the stack. "Merlin's beard that's a lot."_

_"_ _A thank you would have sufficed." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'd imagined you actually wanted to do well, considering the alternative."_

_"_ _I'm writing a paper not a novel," He said pausing while he counted the books, "7 textbooks are hardly needed to do well Granger. Not everyone needs their professors worshipping the ground they walk on."_

_Hermione froze and her eyes narrowed, "At least I do not need to pass a class to stay out of Azkaban you ungrateful twat," she spat. "Excuse me for trying to help to the best of my ability." Hermione jerked up, fuming, pushing her chair out with a large screech and gathering her supplies. She was leaving when she whipped around for a final word, "And when you get stuck trying to understand the muggle texts, don't bother asking ME," Hermione roared._

_She couldn't believe he was ever the reason she was uncertain about Ron. Malfoy could suck it for all she cared, calling_ her _teacher's pet. Her steps became quicker as she became more frustrated, she would go to Hogsmeade tomorrow and take Ron back and she planned on never seeing Malfoy again, if she could help it._

Hermione shook her head, leaving the memories of eighth year behind and refocussing on the Gringotts files in front of her. She hadn't really seen Malfoy again after that night for the rest of the year and her and Ron had picked up their relationship effortlessly. Hermione wondered how often Malfoy thought about being in debt before her thoughts were interrupted by the conference room door opening.

"Sorry, this room is booked." Hermione stated, barely looking up.

"Actually, Granger," Malfoy countered, "I thought we could use the help, so I called backup."

Hermione glanced at him and then looked back at the door, taking in the new arrivals. Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass and Seamus Finnigan were waiting.

"Oh sorry, yes, please come in."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE MIND THE TAGS/YOUR TRIGGERS

Hermione was exhausted when she arrived home and wanted nothing more than the comfort of her bed. Music was playing from her room and she walked in to see Ron dancing on his lonesome to none other than _Dancing Queen_.

A feeling of something that can be described only as sunshine filled her body as she silently watched the love of her life jump around in glee. Ron, in mid jump, noticed Hermione standing and screeched.

"Bloody hell, how long have you been there?"

"Mmm long enough to see your air guitar."

Ron buried his head into his hands and mumbled a, "Oh god," before Hermione walked over and wrapped her hands around him.

"And can I just say that it was the hottest air guitar I have ever seen."

Ron broke a grin. "Did you know these things," he showed her the muggle phone she made him get, "Play music? Like good music?"

Hermione smiled at his naivety, lying easily, "No I didn't, tell me more."

Hermione collapsed on her bed after cooking dinner for them, Ron cradling around her. "You seem tired," he mumbled into her ear, "How was the meeting with Kendra this morning."

Hermione paused; grateful he couldn't see the panic on her face. She evened her voice and answered, "Crappy. She's still pushing hard, and I haven't gotten any further on the case."

"You'll solve it 'Mione, I know you will." He pulled her close to him and was snoring into her ear a minute later. Hermione was wide awake, fatigue gone, trying to suppress her guilt. She did white lies often but those were harmless, for the sole purpose of making Ron happier but this lie felt different. It was eating away at her insides. Hermione carefully slipped out of Ron's grasp and stepped outside in nothing but her robe. She sat on the cold steps shivering, trying to breathe in the chilly air enough to extinguish the panic in her chest. It wasn't until Hermione saw the hint of orange start peeking out of the horizon that she forced herself back inside.

Blaise and Daphne were already in the conference room when she walked in the next morning. She felt a little uneasy having literally never conversed with them alone. "Uhm...morning!" She tried cheerily. Daphne rolled her eyes and looked back down at her parchment and Blaise grinned.

"Well top of the morning to ya too!" He said over the top, and Daphne snickered under her breath.

"Right." She nodded, placing herself on the other side of the conference table. They worked in silence until Seamus walked in and the tension immediately broke when he started on how a muggle driver had splashed him on purpose when he was walking to work, and could it be characterized as a hate crime?

"Considering the muggle probably did not know you and that there are puddles everywhere, I'd have to say no Seamus." She answered. He huffed and sat in front of her with a mumbled acknowledgement.

"So, who did you guys submit for _Not Couple, Couple of the Year_?" Blaise asked. She ignored him, _Not Couple, Couple of the Year_ was a moronic thing that started at the ministry a couple years ago to help inter-colleague relations. She assumed it was because the war had caused such a decrease in wizard population that they were desperate for people to reproduce.

Either way, she always threw out the submission slips when they arrived on her desk. Did people really have nothing better to do? They chatted about submissions for the next couple minutes and Hermione drowned them out until she heard her name come up. She froze.

"Well, I submitted Malfoy and Granger. They do really bring…what's the word…passion." Daphne said. Hermione's eyes narrowed, who was this girl? She swore she had never spoken to her yet she had the audacity to enter her in a raffle without asking.

"You did what?" She spat. Seamus and Blaise's eyes were fixed on them like a tennis match.

"You heard me. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Yes, I do. I don't know about you, but I pride myself in my reputation of being career oriented and you have just dragged me into this stupid thing where my superiors will see."

"I think you mean your reputation of being a bore, at least this way something interesting happens in your life."

Hermione shot up and slammed her file down, "I may be a bore but that is my right to live as I please. This is my life, and you had no right to –."

Malfoy cleared his throat from the door. "Sorry to interrupt the hissy fit, but I do believe we're on a time crunch?" His face was hard.

She took a breath and sat back down, after giving Daphne a final glare. Malfoy walked over and sat next to her without saying another word. The next couple hours passed without any conversation, Hermione tried to work out more theories, but her brain was still stuck on Daphne's audacity. What is with these Slytherins and their inability to process how their actions affect others.

Malfoy slid a note to her without looking up from his pages. She glanced around at the others and their attentions were all downwards.

She cautiously opened the folded piece of parchment.

_I can try and get the submission back if it bothers you so much._

She glanced up at him and his face was still hard, his eyes stuck on a spot on his page.

 _It's fine,_ she wrote back, _people will just think I'm doing a little charity work with the nomination. Maybe this will finally be the year you're not despised._

His harshness broke and he rolled his eyes when writing,

_Not everyone needs people to be worshipping the ground they walk on._

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as the words took her back to a dark library corner in third year where this sentence had been spoke before. His hand continued,

_Don't tell me you're going to storm out again._

She took a moment, reeling at how much he remembered before she began,

_I didn't think you recalled._

She glanced up at him, waiting but he just stared at the parchment. She thought he was about to write something, but he went back to his case. She hid her disappointment by shifting to offense.

_I'm assuming you were able to write a competent paper. Considering you're not in Azkaban right now._

He glanced back at the parchment when she slid it to him but made no effort to write anything. It was a whole minute later that he finally wrote,

_Yes, sorry to disappoint._

He shifted himself away completely, indicating that their little conversation was complete. Hermione stared at his clean scrawl for a minute more trying to decipher what he could possibly mean by 'disappoint'.

Of course, they've had their banter, but he couldn't possibly think she wanted him in Azkaban, could he?

Seamus got up, loudly announcing that he had to head back to work and the room slowly dwindled until it was just her and Malfoy that remained. He didn't speak nor make any move to leave and Hermione felt as though her heart was going to burst out of her chest.

"Why would I be disappointed?" She whispered so quietly she wasn't sure he heard. Hermione finally looked up at him, "Malfoy?"

She saw his jaw stiffen.

He grabbed his things in one swift motion and was gone before she could blink. What had just happened? Nothing really, but then why was she suddenly feeling guilty remembering Ron.

She buried her head in her hands and did her breathing exercises. She hadn't told anyone that the war had made her prone to anxiety attacks, but it was getting harder to hide.

"You have 45 seconds, Hermione." She mumbled to herself, "45 seconds to get your shit together."

It might have been 45 seconds or 45 minutes, but she finally looked back at the case files when she felt her chest not about to burst. Usually, solving a puzzle was the best way she calmed herself. Allowing her brain to get swept up in the art of problem solving and the outside world to fall away except this time the words blurred, and it wasn't until a single tear fell on the parchment that she realized she was crying.

She screamed internally, over the lies to Ron, the deadlines, the secret conversations.

Daphne walked into the conference room.

"I forgot my purse." She stated, not fazed by Hermione's dishevelled appearance or the tears running down her face. "I would also recommend a silencing charm before you start screaming, word travels fast around here."

Daphne grabbed her bag and left without another word as Hermione's head fell, suddenly exhausted. She couldn't even control her external monologue now? What was happening?

Hermione, barely able to stand, grabbed her things and apparated back to her loft without a second thought about the consequences of missing work.

Ron was fiddling with his phone when she arrived, quite surprised by her appearance.

"Hermione! You're home early, look, I got this thing, I think it's called an appilation, and it's so cool Hermione, you can like pick your character and then …", Ron's voice droned on and she didn't have it in her to chime in with the same excitement.

"Oh wow, cool."

"Er…okay someone's grumpy," He huffed.

"I'm just tired, I'm going to bed."

"Okay well excuse me for trying to be a positive person, bloody hell."

Hermione sighed, "I- what? Ron, I know I'm not fun right now, but I honestly just don't have it in me today."

"Don't have what in you? The ability to talk to your boyfriend who's been waiting for you to get home."

"Merlin's beard, Ron, maybe it's not about you. Maybe I'm just exhausted after spending all my days working my ass off! Maybe not everyone can just sit at home all the time!" There was a lull in time, no one spoke, no one breathed, and Hermione immediately regretted ever opening her mouth.

"Glad to know that's what you think of me babe," he stated blankly turning to leave.

"Shit, Ron, wait," She tried, grabbing his arm. "I didn't mean it; you know I didn't mean it."

His eyes were shut, "You need to get off of me 'Mione."

She ignored him and tried pulling him back to face her, "I'm sorry, fuck, I'm sorry."

"Hermione, get off of me." She ignored him again, moving herself to block him from exiting.

"You can't leave like this; we need to talk this out. Ron, I'm so sorry, I've just been so tired with trying to solve the case and running on almost no sleep, having to wake up early to meet the team in the mornings."

"Team? What team? You said it was just Kendra."

Hermione's breath left her lungs as she scrambled to repair her carelessness, "Yeah, Kendra's making me work with other people. It's no one really Ron, just Blaise, Daphne and Seamus." She said quickly.

"Why couldn't you tell me that."

"Because I didn't think it was important, please Ron." She pleaded.

"Not IMPORTANT," he was roaring now, "Stupid little Ron sitting at home doesn't need to know where Hermione Granger is, he's NOT IMPORTANT."

"That's not what I said." She tried louder, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer, "You know I didn't mean it like that."

The next few seconds happened over an eternity, in one she was pleading with the man she loved trying to get him to understand and in another she was flying across the room, her back hitting the wall with a smack.

Her hands reached out behind her to catch her weight, but her wrist snapped in the process. Hermione was sitting on the floor, hunched over, trying to fathom how she had landed here. Because it couldn't be because of her best friend, he wouldn't do that. She looked up; wrist cupped with her good hand at Ron who was sitting with his head in his chest.

"I told you to get out of my way," he pleaded, not yet glancing at her.

Hermione tried to open her mouth to speak but nothing came out, her thoughts went back to sixth year when Lavender would show up to lecture with bruises on her arms, laughing, saying that she was just clumsy. Hermione didn't, in a million years, think it was _Ron._ Could it be? Was this her best friend? She couldn't even recognize him, and her mind was spiraling.

"What just happened?" She croaked, "Did you _push_ me?"

Ron looked up from his hands, for the first time seeing his damage. His eyes travelled to Hermione's cupped, already bruising wrist and her scared eyes. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." He hurried over to her side, and Hermione shrinked away from him.

"You _pushed_ me." She stated, staring at him, baffled at the man she thought she knew.

"I- fuck, no, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking, I was so angry. God, Hermione, please know, I thought I was just pushing you out of the way, I didn't realize that…", his voice broke and his eyes brimmed with tears.

"You hurt me." Her voice was scratchy as she came to terms with the last 20 seconds. "You were angry, so you _hurt_ me."

"What can I say to fix this? Fuck, listen, I lost control, Hermione, I just…"

"Get out," She interrupted.

"Hermione, please."

"You need to leave." She turned her head to stare at his face to solidify her request.

Ron sighed and nodded. "Please telephone me," he said with his voice cracking as he moved to collect his things and exit her flat.

Hermione held her breath until she heard the door close before falling into her lap, sobbing. Her entire world had changed in one minute, why had she even come home? All of this could've been avoided if she had just….

She stayed in the same position, unable to suppress the panic attack this time around. She couldn't breathe and her eyes wouldn't stop shedding tears for some reason.

"Breathe Hermione, breathe." She muttered to herself, over and over again until it was nothing but a jumble of sounds. Her consciousness left her at some point, and she descended into sleep.

* * *

Hermione woke up to darkness outside, still sitting on her living room floor. For a second she forgot the morning, for a second, she had woken up as the same Hermione Granger as the day before. She shifted and with it a sharp pain burst from her wrist as everything came crashing down.

Ron. _Shit_.

Her eyes were dried out now and her head felt less jumbled. First things first, she needed someone to look at this damn wrist. She wasn't sure how it would hold up under apparition, injuries tend to exacerbate themselves, she recalled.

Her clock chimed midnight, had she really slept all day?

Hermione moved slowly to check her phone and realized the 14 missed calls from Ron along with the 11 texts that had stopped coming around 6pm. All of them had the same gist, _I'm sorry, I fucked up, it was an accident, please call me etc._

She wasn't sure if she believed him, let alone forgave him. How could one just accidentally push hard enough to merit a broken wrist? The probability was low, but she guessed it wasn't 0.

Hermione realized that in her state she would not be travelling anywhere soon and cast her own diagnostic charm. The fracture light gleamed and upon closer analysis, it indicated that it was a hairline fracture. At least it wasn't broken. Hermione transfigured herself a cast, she would get someone to look at it tomorrow.

Now that that was taken care of…no she couldn't begin to analyze Ron. Even thinking about him brought a new bubble of anxiety. She had to talk to someone though, Harry and Ginny were off limits, she wasn't sure how she felt about Ron, but she knew she wasn't ready to make that decision.

She slowly realized that she had no one else. When had she let herself get so isolated?

Hermione sighed and leaned against the wall again, her only anchor to the world.

 _Lavender_ she thought, even though she had died in the war, Parvati might know if anything like this had happened before.

Hermione reached for some parchment and began writing,

_Parvati,_

_I hope you're well._

She paused. She couldn't very well just ask, hey do you remember if your dead best friend ever got hurt due to my current boyfriend. It took her 4 sheets of parchment attempts to arrive at an acceptable enough letter and she sent it off without over analyzing it again.

Hermione put on some tea and stared at her clock until it was a reasonable enough hour to head to work. She examined her wrist, there was an ache, but her cast had held up enough.

She needed to get through today without it causing any issues. There was no way Kendra would be okay with her taking a leave, having already missed a whole day and only four days left to solve the case before her glorious ministry job turned into dung.

Hermione walked into the conference room, positive that she would be the only one present an hour before they had to meet but was greeted by Malfoy.

Well, greeted is a big word, more like he grunted at her before she placed herself across from him. Hermione carefully placed her arm on the table before reaching into her satchel and pulling out the files.

She was an hour into the blissful silence she needed to get lost in the world of mysteries when a sharp gasp interrupted her.

"Granger, what if the robbers – ", he paused abruptly at the sight of her cast. "What happened there?" He asked in a much less enthusiastic voice.

"Doesn't matter, what were you saying? The robbers?"

"What happened to your wrist?" He said forcefully.

"What were you saying?" She tried just as strongly.

Malfoy got up and walked over, gingerly touching her cast. "This is homemade, you haven't even gone to the Healers yet? I thought you were supposed to be responsible." He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting Hermione.

Her thoughts drifted back to Ron and the dreadful morning, thoughts she had worked all night to supress. She could feel her eyes filling with tears and shoved her wall into place.

"It is absolutely none of your business, _Malfoy_." She tried in the most spiteful tone she could muster, "If you have forgotten, you said that you owe me. I am now cashing that in, so, for the love of god, finish your fucking sentence."

Malfoy gazed at her for an extra second before moving away, "Very well. I was just saying that what if the robbers never left."

Hermione's brain felt like it got electrocuted and, just then, the door opened to let in the rest of their team.

What if they never left, what if they were still there when Gringotts opened up. It would explain how they got in and out without transportation magic available. What if they simply stayed there until it closed, grabbed the loot and left as normal customers the next day, over even after a couple days.

"Seems like we missed something," Blaise said eyeing Hermione.

She opened her mouth and her theory, well Malfoy's theory along with her thoughts, came tumbling out.

"Its possible," Daphne started, "It would require an awful lot of Imperio for the goblins and guards to forget that they let them in but never let them out in the same day, how did we miss that."

"Because we were investigating the wrong guards!" Seamus exclaimed, "If the robbers were smart, the ones of importance wouldn't have been working anywhere near when the loot actually went missing."

The conference room buzzed with excitement and Hermione breathed for the first time in what felt like days. She glanced at Malfoy to communicate her thanks, but his eyes were still lingering on her cast.

Her brain had pushed out Malfoy's weird behaviour by the time she was back in her office, her thoughts completely wrapped up with the case. A couple hours later, she had drafted up a proposal and was precisely checking the timing and facts when a knock interrupted. She immediately thought of Ron, half hoping it was him and half wishing it was anyone but.

"Come in," She called.

A women in a blue healers coat walked in, her eyes were kind. "Hello Ms. Granger, I was called to do a check up on your wrist."

"Oh, what? By whom?"

"A Mr. Weasley I believe."

She sighed, of course Ron was concerned about her even though this was his bloody fault. "Oh, okay, I did put a cast on it but I'm not a healer."

The women, Healer Tringh, she learnt was her name, carefully took apart her cast and performed various diagnostic and healing charms, some even Hermione didn't recognize. Her wrist felt better instantly, she had become accustomed to the throbbing and felt an emptiness without it.

"I'm going to place a new cast on it, but you should be able to remove it by tomorrow. Until then, no heavy lifting Ms. Granger." She opened her mouth to say more but decided against it.

It wasn't until she was at the door, on her way out that she finally spoke up again, her eyes were less cheery and had a heaviness to them, "Ms. Granger, there were some bruises picked up on the diagnostic charm along your back and rear." She paused; her lips tight. "Do you need _help_?"

Hermione inferred that the healer was not referring to the bruises and answered with a light tone, "Not at all, thank you Healer Tringh, I'm just clumsy."

The healer gave her a curt nod and exited; Hermione left with the hollow of the missing pain. When had she become the woman people were concerned about? Her entire life, she had been capable, the least of anyone's worries.

Even with Harry and Ron…Ron…her mind drifted over their relationship. The strength of their friendship and even still, injured by him, she knew, without a doubt, that if it ever came to it, Ron would give up his life for hers.

She wasn't sure if she could forgive him yet but surely, she owed him a chance to explain. Hermione pulled out her phone and sent him a text asking him to meet her at home and his reply was instant, an affirmation. Her mind both whirring ahead at the possibilities of what their talk could bring and stuck on the fact of seeing him again gave her a headache and she quickly diverted her attention to the proposal to keep her mind busy.

* * *

Hermione entered her loft with caution, suppressing the anxiety, looking around to locate the familiar flaming red hair. She saw him before he noticed her, his head on his hands at their living room table and she cleared her throat.

"Hermione, hi," His face looked exhausted with deep bags under his eyes. His hair was dishevelled, and he was wearing the same clothes as the other morning. "Thank you for, um, coming."

"Well yes, I was the one that texted you." Her arms were crossed, and she tried to muster as much confidence she could, trying to mask how desperately she wanted comfort in his arms. She hadn't realized she had already forgiven him until now, hating herself for how easily she was able to do so.

"Um, yes, right." His eyes fell back down to the table and Hermione softened. She knew him like the back of her hand, probably better than she knew herself. She knew he was beating himself over this more than she was, and she believed him when he said it was an accident and that it would never happen again.

"I know, Ron," She whispered, "I was just surprised. I never thought you'd be the one to hurt me."

His eyes closed, and his face fell in pain, his voice cracking when he spoke again, "Me too, Hermione. I've gone through that morning so many times in my head thinking about what I should've done differently and I just –." His face contorted in agony, "I am so unbelievably sorry."

"Okay," she said barely above a whisper.

"What?" His eyes looked back up at her, this time with a sliver of hope.

"I said okay Ron, I believe you."

He walked over carefully, like a sudden movement might scare her away, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Of course, I'm sure, have I ever been wrong before?"

His face cracked into a grin and he barreled the rest of the way to her, clutching her to his chest. "Brightest witch of her age AND my girlfriend wow," he said into her hair.

Her tension left her body as she accepted him, "I know, how did you get so lucky?"

"I have no idea," He muttered.

His face leaned back, hesitant and Hermione smirked, closing their distance with her lips on his. His kiss was soft, filled with apologies and promises for tomorrow and hers accepting. Because isn't that what love is? To accept the other's flaws wholeheartedly. They made love that night, Hermione completely unaware of the precarious balance her life had just come to. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's slightly shorter than the last one, but it needed to happen.
> 
> I hope y'all love it! As always, please review and mind the tags!

Hermione woke to the sun beaming into her little flat and Ron's arm shaking her awake. His face was still smashed into the pillow, the remains of deep sleep lingering.

"You snore like my great Aunt Tessie," he mumbled.

"You woke me up to spew lies?" She groaned.

Ron shifted onto his hand, elbow resting where his head was, "Lies? Who're you calling a -."

He was interrupted by Hermione grabbing the nearest pillow and bringing it down on him with as much force her half-awake body could muster.

Ron grabbed his pillow, invoking a pillow fight before their first tea, the only acceptable way to respond. Hermione shrieked, sleep leaving her at once as she got on her knees to allow more pillow swing momentum. They were 30 seconds in when Ron gave up his pillow and just dove to tackle her, seizing her waist and rolling over her, their faces now inches from each other. "Watcha gonna do now big brain?"

She gasped at the movement, laughing at the boy's fake raised eyebrow, "I thought you knew not to underestimate me?" His face fell just as she elbowed his stomach to distract from the fact that she now had enough space to slither out. Ron was coming to terms with this as another pillow descended on his back.

"Ahhhh", he cried, "I surrender, you win, you winnnn," with mock fear and his hands raised.

Hermione grinned and grabbed him, sitting on his lap with her legs wrapped around, "You buffoon."

"You're the one in love with this buffoon", he countered.

She smiled, bringing her lips to his, "Can't argue that."

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure if she was still supposed to meet the team, their proposal was already submitted and all they had left to do now was wait. Still, her fear of missing out won over and she departed for the ministry. She had yet to tell Ron the case had been solved but it was because it just hadn't come up, she told herself.

Hermione was surprised to find that she was not the only one with this fear as Daphne was flipping through some parchment at the table.

"Oh hey, I wasn't sure if we were meeting but I thought to come just in case." Hermione said.

"Thanks for the life story Granger, don't believe I remember asking."

Hermione huffed, "God would it kill you to be nice."

"Yes, I believe it just might."

Blaise and Malfoy had arrived soon after, but Seamus was nowhere to be seen half-past. "I wonder if it was your hair that scared him away", Daphne said.

The boys chuckled before Blaise followed up with a, "I don't know, I think it makes Hermione look striking." She glanced at him at her name, her first name, and he gave her a wink.

Malfoy shifted uncomfortably in his seat and added, "Yeah if you mean stricken by lightning."

Everyone laughed and Hermione tried to act unimpressed, but a smile broke through. "Watch it before someone takes away your hair grease."

Blaise's mouth opened in a perfect circle and even Daphne smirked at her remark. Hermione returned her gaze to her work and was mentally replaying the conversation when Seamus burst in panting.

"Occlumency training," he said between gasps, "Mandatory occlumency training," before passing them out ministry letters. "I've been trying to convince them about how much of a breach of privacy it could be, but they're going through with it."

Hermione regarded the letter in front of her and read.

_To all employees of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,_

_Effective immediately, all personnel in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement are to be trained in Occlumency for the safety of yourself, your peers, and those involved in your cases. Recently, there has been a rise in criminals skilled in Legilimency and with that, comes the ability to view confidential information that only you may be privy to. For privacy concerns, the ministry has decided that the training may be conducted by a trained Legilimens of the employee's choice or one will be assigned._

_This order is non-negotiable and should any concerns arise, please contact your immediate superior._

_Hoping that you are well,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt_

_Minister of Magic_

"What happens if we refuse?" Hermione asked.

Seamus answered, "They'll switch you to a different department."

"This cannot be legal."

"It is, I've checked."

Hermione was racking her brain for any trained Legilimens that she knew for she could not allow a random ministry employee to peruse her thoughts. Except she was coming up short, the only person she had come across was Snape, who was dead of course. Harry was being trained in Occlumency she recalled but he was horrendous, and it wasn't nearly the same thing.

Kendra Parsons was standing at Hermione's door when she arrived, and it nearly startled Hermione back a foot. "Oh! Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone."

"Quite alright Ms. Granger." Hermione took in Kendra's face, her voice was cheerier than usual, without the threatening undertones she was used to.

"Um, please come in?" She tried, unlocking her office and pointing an arm inside.

Kendra made herself comfortable at once, and Hermione gulped. Is this where she gets fired? Hermione knew _she_ would be jolly if she'd never have to associate with Kendra again so perhaps that's where the mood was coming from.

"What can I do for you Mrs. Parsons?"

"I thought I would let you know that your proposal was picked up by the Minister directly and that Aurors were sent out to interrogate any and all guards working at the bank over the past couple months. It wasn't long before they found a hole in their memories and upon further investigation, realised the individuals who entered the bank and exited on completely different days, completely different weeks if you believe it. There is a hunt for the suspects but now that we have faces, the Minister is confident that they will be apprehended and is very happy with my – our work."

Hermione's eyes were wide as she took this in. They had been right? She was confident in the proposal of course but refused to be delusional enough to put all of her faith in it.

"That's incredible Mrs. Parsons, I'm so glad we were successful."

"I always knew you could do it Ms. Granger, feel free to take the rest of the day off."

Hermione allowed herself her eye roll once Kendra had left her office. Always knew she could do it her ass. Slowly, a grin spread across her face as she absorbed what had just occurred. She was running out her office and down the hall before she could even think twice, banging on the rustic door she had just entered not a week ago.

"Granger", Malfoy said with shock as he opened the door, moving aside to let her in.

"We did it."

"What?"

"The case, the robbery! Kendra was just in my office to inform us that they found the imperio'd guards and they have the faces of the robbers."

Malfoy was still, staring at her apprehensively.

"Merlin's beard be excited for once. We solved the case!"

"Oh, my bad, someone catch me, I might just pass out from delight."

"Ugh do you have to -."

Someone cleared their throat from the couch in Malfoy's office and she realized that Blaise was also in the room.

"Don't let me interrupt the make out sesh, but I was wondering if I am also included in the 'we' that you refer to about solving the case."

"Blaise! Of course! I couldn't have done it without you, both of you, the whole team."

"I think we deserve more than just words, what do you say Malfoy? What shall we ask for… a round of drinks? A meal? Brand new robes? Gold?"

Hermione looked at Blaise with her eyebrow raised, "You are sadly mistaken if you think I can afford anything on that list except for the drinks. And that's one round, barely."

"We'll take it!" Blaise exclaimed, "I'll let the rest of the team know. What do you say, 6 o'clock tonight at the leaky cauldron?"

* * *

Hermione arrived early at home once again, having taken up Kendra's offer for the day off. She thought back to herself before the war, how that Hermione would have scoffed at being rewarded by a day of no work. How she would have wanted nothing more than to be buried in another case immediately. Hermione's throat closed and she willed herself to pull it together, reminding herself that she was not weak for needing breaks.

Hermione entered her flat with a smile plastered on her face, today would be a happy day.

Ron was back in bed, sleeping. Perhaps if he hadn't decided to wake her at a ridiculous hour in the morning, then she would have had more sleep as well. She allowed him the rest and headed to the kitchen, dreaming about a nice cup of tea and throwing herself into a novel.

She was well into reading, tea cup empty when she noticed a shifting in the hallway and assumed Ron was up, he could come find her. This he did, except with a baseball bat raised in offense.

"Blimey Hermione!" He startled. "When did you come back; I swore we were getting robbed. I almost killed you."

Hermione snickered, "Did you forget that you're a wizard?"

Ron looked at his bat sheepishly, "Hey, it was the closest thing to me, and I was half asleep. What're you doing home anyway?"

"Oh Ron! We solved the case!"

He screeched, dropping his bat immediately and diving at her, "I knew you could do it! THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND!"

Hermione laughed as she wrapped her hands around him, "Who are you even talking to."

"The neighbors! The building! The WORLD!"

"You crazy, crazy man."

"Let me take you out to dinner tonight, as a celebration."

Hermione pulled away, looking at his expectant face and her heart broke as she fed him the truth, "I can't, I promised I'd take the team out."

Ron's face fell as he left her embrace and stood back up, "Of course, why would you want to go out with crazy crazy Ron," he gruffed.

"Oh my goodness, you know I would if I could help it. How's later tonight? We haven't done a movie night in a while." She poked him repeatedly, knowing that he would come around eventually. "Watch a movie with me…pleaseee."

Ron grumbled, "Only if it's a good one."

* * *

Hermione had been trying to lay her hair flat for the past hour. She had to be at the Leaky Cauldron in 30 minutes and it looked as crazy as before. Hermione finally resulted to two Dutch braids, something Ginny had taught her, but she always thought she looked like a milkmaid when she did them. Better than the poof at least.

"I'M OFF." She yelled from the front door and Ron popped his head out.

"My ears, bloody hell, I'm right here." He eyed the top of her head suspiciously, "Wow Hermione, your hair looks great. Who did you say was coming again?"

"Seamus, Blaise, Daphne … and Kendra." She added, quickly. Somehow two women sounded better than one.

Ron nodded warily, "Okay, have fun. Message me throughout the night."

"I can't be on my phone the whole time Ron."

"I'm not saying the whole time, just once in a while so I know you haven't gotten Avada'd somewhere."

She rolled her eyes and looked through her purse, making sure she had everything. "I'm leaving, love you."

She apparated once far enough away from earshot of her neighbors, arriving right at the door of the cauldron. The intense scent of stale fire-whiskey and grease hit her before she had even opened the door entirely.

"Oi! Hermione!" Her eyes traveled to the source of the noise and found Blaise standing on a chair and flailing his arms about. The entire team had already arrived.

She quickly hurried over and pulled at his arm, getting him off his chair, "There's barely anyone here, I would've spotted you. Dramatic much."

"You know I had to give my favourite Gryffindor a warm welcome."

"Warm is fine, that was a third-degree burn welcome."

"Now who's being dramatic."

Hermione snickered and sat down at the only empty seat next to Malfoy. She would not be entertaining the annoying blonde tonight. Her eyes travelled to the table and realized that there was at least one empty glass in front of everyone.

"Am I late? I thought we said 6?"

"Yes, but we came down straight from work at got here earlier, remember work Hemione? The thing that people sometimes do…I guess pretty girls who solve cases get it easy though."

Malfoy got up abruptly, "Drinks? Blaise help me carry them," and left before Hermione had a chance to even ask for a butterbeer. Blaise followed suit with a twinkle in his eye and she was left alone with Daphne and Seamus.

"So, uhm, have you guys found someone to do your occlumency training with?" She tried, conversing away the awkwardness.

"I'm already trained in both Occlumency and Legilimency," Daphne said with a hint of superiority.

"Fabulous, congrats." Hermione answered bluntly. It's not like she'd ever let Daphne into her brain.

"I'm sure you would have no trouble finding someone to peruse the Golden Girl's thoughts." Daphne finished.

Seamus looked awkwardly and butted in with a, "Myself, I would rather a random person. They don't know me anyway so what does it matter how much they find out?"

Hermione let her thoughts mull over Seamus' idea, she realized that she didn't have the same freedom. She was sure that while the random person would be less invested in her brain, she couldn't afford certain memories slipping out.

Her brain thought back to her wrist snapping, Ron's face, the apologies. If that got out, surely the press would have a field day. There were also the memories of the horcruxes, private things Harry had shared…she owed it to her friends to find someone she trusted not to spill her secrets.

"I have certain…limitations…in that matter," she finally answered.

"Well, I guess if you asked nicely, I could do it." Daphne said, a smirk on her face. Hermione was about to decline, harshly, when she realized that she didn't have another option. What were the chances she'd find another that was trained in the matter?

She thought about that while the boys came back with their drinks and Blaise placed a heaping butterbeer and three fire-whiskey shots in front of her. She barely questioned it, her thoughts still on whether Daphne would be suitable.

Daphne didn't have any sort of interest or care about Hermione's well-being, she was sure of that, meaning that it was likely she wouldn't probe or even remember anything she saw. While she didn't know Daphne well, she _figured_ that she wasn't the kind of person that sold people's secrets. Either way, she was her only shot.

"Alright! Round of shots," Blaise called while Seamus whooped.

Normally, she probably would have butted out but knowing that she had to somehow swallow her pride and ask this girl who had been nothing but rude to her to for a favour made the fire-whiskey seem so much more appealing.

Hermione was into her fourth butterbeer, her surroundings swimming when she finally had the courage to pop the question.

"Daphne," she started, sitting up straight, "Would you please enter my brain."

People were laughing around her, but her attention was on the darkhaired woman, "If you're asking if I would help train you, then no."

Hermione gasped, "But you said if I asked nicely."

"I don't remember telling you that you were allowed to call me Daphne."

"Agh, you and you Slytherins with your name fetishes. Please, Missus Greengrass, if it would not trouble you so, please, if you don't mind, give me the honour, of…uhm, you the honour…"

Hermione stalled, trying to think of what she was trying to say, already forgotten.

"Come on Daphne, take her out of her misery." Someone next to her said.

"Misery? Who are you calling-," She turned and realized her face was inches from Malfoy's.

She gulped.

"Oh uh, yes hello." She said, unable to look away from his grey eyes.

"I think that's enough butterbeer for Granger," the boy said not looking away from her eyes, mint flooding her scenes.

"I thought you wanted something from _me_ ", Daphne called.

Hermione whipped her head around too fast and her stomach turned, "I- yes, can you, uhm, please…"

"Oh god, I'll say yes now if you promise not to ask again."

Hermione whooped, her hands raising in celebration, but her right hand hit something, hard. She turned to see Malfoy holding his chin, "Merlin's beard Granger."

Her hands slapped her mouth, "Oh my god, Draco, I'm so sorry."

Everyone was quiet for a second before Blaise finally spoke, "I think you should get home Granger; do you have a way?"

"Uhm," she hadn't thought this far, how had she gotten here?

"Malfoy, take her home." Blaise said with finality and she was helped up and pushed towards the door. Her legs were exhausted and the strong man holding her felt so nice.

"Where do you live Granger?" He asked softly once they were outside.

"Uhm live? With Ron."

 _Ron._ She couldn't show up with Malfoy, she knew that even in this state. Though she couldn't recall why. Hermione was suddenly pulling at Malfoy, urging him in the other direction.

"No like the address…what are you doing Granger?" He said, exasperated.

"We can't…Ron can't…doesn't know about you." She finally got out.

"Why?" His eyes were staring at her so intently, she thought she was in trouble. Hermione felt a lurch in her stomach and whipped around, vomiting on the pavement.

"Shit," was all she heard before her surroundings swam and she descended into darkness.

* * *

Hermione groaned as she slowly came out of sleep. Her head felt like it weighed a million pounds and a wave of nausea hit her. The soft, burgundy sheets and floor to ceiling windows indicated that she was in unknown territory. Hermione quickly looked under the blanket; a massive swell of panic hit her as she made eye contact with the Slytherin green pajamas she was wearing.

Fuck, where was her wand? She slowly got out of the bed, locating her wand on top of a folded set of her clothes and tiptoed outside the room. She was in a loft it seemed but one at least three times the size of hers. Hermione followed a light coming from the end of the hallway and found herself peering into a kitchen. Her nerves were all on high alert, where was she? What had happened to her?

A clatter from the corner of her eye startled her and she sent an _Expelliarmus_ without looking. It hit a cabinet and the wood exploded.

"Fuck!" Said a voice.

Hermione's eyes trailed to the origin and noticed Malfoy staring at her with a bewildered expression. Hermione raised her wand higher, pointing it right at his stupid little face.

"What did you do to me? Why am I here?" She questioned.

" _Do_ to you? The only thing I did was prevent you from getting run over when you passed out on the road last night." Malfoy said, adding a muttered, "I'll just leave you there next time, I guess, ungrateful little…."

Hermione clutched the counter near her for balance as the night came back to her in chunks. Her wand was still raised, still not trusting.

"Why am I here?" She demanded.

"Jeez, because I didn't know your address and you said not to ask the Weasel. Granger, put the wand down."

Her eyes narrowed, "I told you not to call him –."

"God, okay, okay, the Weasley."

Hermione slowly lowered her wand and walked over, her stomach turning at the eggs Malfoy was frying. "Gross, chicken secretions."

"Did you just call eggs, chicken secretions?"

"Am I wrong?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "There's bread in the cupboard you can toast if you want to eat like a 12-year-old."

Hermione was starving, probably from all the clearing out her stomach did yesterday but Ron kept swimming to the forefront of her mind.

"I should get home, where's my phone?"

He pointed at the massive island with his spatula, Hermione following it to her _unlocked_ phone.

"You went through my phone?"

"Yes, because I am just that interested in the boring little life you lead."

"It's unlocked," she said flatly.

"The Weas - Ron kept texting. I was worried the man would blow up your phone, therefore damaging the expensive counter it rested on."

Hermione scoffed and looked at her boyfriend's message thread. He had texted a total of 14 times before Draco sent a: _This is Daphne, Hermione drank too much so she's crashing at my place right now. She is fine._

Hermione scrolled up to the beginning of the night:

_Did you get to the bar?_

_Tell everyone I say hi!_

_Hermione?_

_Hello?_

_Jeez, just say hi or something_

_When are you coming home?_

_Helloooooo_

_HELLO_

_Hermione it's 9 already and I haven't heard from you, please say something…I guess I'm watching the movie on my own?_

_Fine, don't bother coming home._

_Hermione, where are you?_

_Hello?_

_It's literally midnight, what is this_

_Fuck Hermione_

Hermione inhaled, a panic blooming in her chest. Shit, Ron was going to be so mad. Shit, shit, shit. She realized that Malfoy was still watching her.

"Uhm, thank you for saying I was at Daphne's."

"Why do you have to lie to him?" Draco questioned.

"It's just better this way, Ron would make a big deal about nothing."

"Nothing." Draco muttered, turning back to his eggs. "You know Granger, I thought you'd be smart enough to know that 14 texts before midnight even hits isn't considered normal concern."

Hermione's mouth dropped, how _dare_ he. "You have no right to criticize my relationship."

"I'm just pointing out the facts."

"I had plans with Ron so _obviously_ he would get worried that I just fell off the face of the earth. Mind your business Malfoy."

"So, I'm Malfoy again?" He sneered, "I thought we switched to Draco yesterday."

"When did I…" Hermione trailed off, trying to recall, "Even if it happened, it was obviously the alcohol. You'll always be the git: Malfoy."

Malfoy clenched his jaw and flipped the eggs with ease, "Do you have a way home."

"Obviously."

Hermione left without a second word back to the bedroom she had woken up in and quickly changed back into her clothes. Who had changed her in the first place? Surely not…she shuddered thinking about Draco trying to wrestle a loopy Hermione into his old Slytherin pajamas. She grabbed her purse, leaving his clothes folded on the made bed, and went back into the kitchen.

"Uhm, so I'm off."

Draco barely glanced up at her, nodding into his eggs.

She sighed, "Maybe you should have left me on that road if you regret it so much," and let herself out of his stupidly fancy flat. Who needs a kitchen that could fit at least 50 people?

She had apparated back to her street and was hesitating at the door, uneasy about what she would find as she entered. She quietly opened it, "Ron?"

"Hermione! Oh my god!" He ran through the flat and barrelled into her arms, "I was so worried."

She sighed.

"What happened? Tell me everything."

Hermione started first explaining the mandatory Occlumency training, with Ron inputting his disbelief that the ministry would do that. She was wrapping up her conversation with Seamus and Daphne at the bar when she finished, "And ugh, Ron, the idea that I would have to ask her to help me was just so annoying that I ended up drinking all the shots that Blaise had brought, plus 4 butterbeers."

Ron snickered, "Hermione, my beautiful light-weight girlfriend, how did you think that would end?"

"I know, I know. So, yeah, I woke up at Daphne's so confused and of course, she had to be an absolute ass all morning. I am sorry Ron, for missing our movie night and for not texting you back."

"It happens Mione, I was mad but I'm fine now. I just, sometimes, need a little time to get out of my head and I got that overnight. I'm glad you're safe."

Hermione's anxieties about him melted off her shoulders, and she was still smiling while she dressed for work.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday loves!
> 
> Quick things,
> 
> Please mind your triggers, this chapter is darker than others and features some non-con scenes.
> 
> Also, please review! I hope the fic has been okay so far, I know I'm surprised at how much I'm enjoying the writing process...if only got this excited about my assignments:(
> 
> Lil heads up, I am heading back to uni soon so the uploads will probably (hopefully, so I actually do my school work) be more spaced apart.
> 
> Lastly, I know the dramione thing is slow building but it'll be worth it, I swear.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and don't forget to review! *kisses*

Hermione's days started blending together, she'd go to work, solve some case that came across her desk, some required a couple days but none as taxing as the Gringotts one, she'd then come home and spend the night with Ron. She could tell he was getting antsy stuck in the flat all day and their arguments concerning his job, or lack thereof, were getting more frequent.

One begun on a remarkably tired day, where Hermione's patience had been struck down to the bone trying to be pleasant with her superior, Kendra the Incompetent Parsons.

"Why is it so out of the ordinary to suggest a trip?" Ron argued. He had taken the stance that a trip would be good for them, somewhere warm, with sun, so Hermione could get her brain fried sitting at beaches, staring at nothingness.

"Because I don't want to Ron, why can't that be enough?"

"I am going insane 'Mione, sitting in this tiny flat day and night with nothing to do."

"Well get something to go! No one's stopping you."

Ron ran his fingers through his hair, already knowing where this was heading.

"No, seriously", Hermione continued, "I don't understand why you just sit complaining about being bored when nothing is stopping you from finding a job, or even a hobby."

"Not everyone knows what they want to do Hermione! Not everyone finds joy in sitting at a desk for 10 hours a day."

"No one is telling you to do that. I know Harry wouldn't mind you joining him with his Auror hunts."

"Because that's all I'll ever be right? Harry Potters little side kick."

Hermione threw the novel she was reading at the table, standing up to meet his height, "Why do you do that Ron. You are in and of yourself, incredible. I'm just saying that if you don't want to sit in my _little_ flat, and you don't want to sit behind a desk, then go hunt something."

Ron sat down at their quant dining table, suddenly tired of having the same fight over and over again, "Because, I do not want to go anywhere without you." He muttered into his hands.

"What?" His honesty caught her off guard, she just assumed he was here because he had nowhere better to be, could it really be for her?

Ron looked up at her with exasperated amusement, "You know for the smartest person I know, you are seriously quite dumb if you can't tell how utterly infatuated I am with you."

She giggled, clapping her hand to her mouth, "What? Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"Let me explain," Ron continued, "I am completely, wholeheartedly, blindly in love with you and I can't imagine spending any minute of my life without you."

Hermione's breathe hitched as her brain rushed ahead, foreshadowing what she refused to believe was about to happen.

"The reason I want to go on a vacation," Ron spoke again, "Is so I can do this at a more … scenic place than your dining table but considering how utterly stubborn my girlfriend is," he gulped, "here goes nothing."

Ron stood up off his chair, grabbing Hermione's hands and bringing her up to join him. "I am the luckiest man alive to have been able to spend the last decade with you, would you allow me the rest of my life?"

Ron took a knee, pulling out a little velvet box and opening it to reveal a magnificent opal ring. It had diamonds encrusted around the stone with a gold band, twinkling to look like fairies had made it themselves. "Will you, Hermione Jean Granger, marry me?"

Hermione fell to her knees, not even realizing when she had started crying. The faint tears transformed to blubbering and she could simply nod her head.

"Yes? Hermione is that a yes?"

Hermione gasped between sobs, "Yes, yes, a million times yes."

Ron shoved the ring into her ring finger, and grabbed her, both falling to the floor with tears. "How, where did you-

"Ginny helped me find it on my visit to see them, she says congrats by the way."

An uncontrollable bunch of giggles burst from her as she stared at _her ring_ and the dashing redhead in front of her. After her parents, she had assumed that she had no family left but this man in her arms was all she was ever going to need.

"I hope you know I'm not changing my last name," she pouted.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

Hermione was trying to read the project Kendra had placed in front of her at least an hour ago but the glittering weight on her finger kept capturing her attention. She toyed with it, waiting for it to disappear, but there it remained, as attention grabbing as before. Hermione slid it off her finger and back on, but…huh…it wouldn't quite get to the end of her finger. Stopping a couple centimeters before. She shoved harder but it simply didn't budge and instead irritated her skin to the point of discomfort.

She huffed, thinking about transfiguring it by magic but scared that her minimal jewellery manipulation training would end up causing irreversible harm. She'd have to take it to a professional.

Still, Hermione felt the weight of the ring constantly, whether she was reading, making tea, or even in the shower, she'd just stop to look at it, still not believing that it was there. The witch was sure that everyone around her could see it too, that they knew that she wasn't deserving of this glamour.

On a day like any other, her anxiety was confirmed when no other than Malfoy walked into her lift.

"Good morning," she tried politely, they hadn't spoken since that dreadful morning she woke up in his flat but surely, he was past that by now.

Draco simply nodded at her, turning his back away completely.

"The polite answer is _Good morning to you too,_ dickhead." Hermione startled herself at her tone. She should've just ignored him, let him get off the lift at his stop and never communicate again but something about the little bastard's inability to just be civil made her want to bash his face in.

"Someone's in a mood…what, is the opal not big enough for the Golden Girl?"

She gasped slightly, surprised that he had even noticed the ring, let alone the kind of stone. Their floor arrived before she could articulate an appropriately insulting response and he was gone. A seed of annoyance grew, and right there, Hermione decided that that was the last time he would ever get to walk away from her first.

Her phone buzzed, and she inspected it immediately. The only person that ever texted her was Ron that even that was rare.

_(future) Mrs. Granger, would you please accompany me to dinner tonight?_

_Wait! Before you say no, we can hit Flourish and Blotts after._

She hated going to dinners, what was the point? People forced to serve you just so you can eat overpriced food with the option of either staring at the person in front of you or just gawking at others eat.

The bookstore though…Hermione was already looking forward to scratching off some books on her To Be Read List, Ron knew her too well and Hermione begrudgingly typed out a _yes_.

* * *

They arrived at the bookstore with barely enough time for her to browse. Dinner had been stupidly boring and taken senselessly long and she had been itching to get lost in the smell of books and history all evening.

She had barely finished an aisle when Ron spoke up, "Er…Hermione, do you mind if I head over to Quality Quidditch Supplies? There's a new broom out."

Hermione smiled into aisle; she was wondering how long it would take him to make an excuse and head out. She preferred browsing on her lonesome anyway, "Of course not, have fun."

He leaned in for a quick peck before dashing out and Hermione lost herself in the aisles and aisles of literature. The scrawny, hunched old lady that owned the store came over and tapped on Hermione and then then pointed at the clock, indicating that the store was closing. The girl blushed crimson and quickly purchased the ever-growing pile of books in her arms without thinking twice and rushed out to find Ron.

Except he wasn't alone.

Her breath caught in her throat, her satchel of books almost tumbling out of her hand when she saw Ron chatting with Seamus across the street.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Maybe Seamus wouldn't mention her at all, or even if he did, maybe he wouldn't mention how Draco had been on the team, or how he had taken her home or all of the other things she had hidden. Hermione warily waved at Ron when he looked over, his face seeming happy and carefree like always.

He said his goodbyes to Seamus and marched over, his thumps ricocheting off the pavement and through her head.

"Hey, all good?" He asked.

Hermione let out the panic building with a shaky breath and almost fell over with relief, "Yes, yes. Let's go home."

They apparated back to her neighborhood and neither spoke on the walk to her flat. Weird that he hadn't mentioned anything about the new broomstick, not that she would have cared enough to actually listen, but Ron was always bursting to talk about the latest mumbo jumbo improvements.

She was just over analyzing his behaviour, she said to herself, everything was completely fine. She was fine. And yet, Hermione was unable to let go of the uneasy feeling growing in her stomach.

One she hadn't gotten since the war. One that usually indicated imminent danger.

She unlocked the door with shaky hands and let Ron in, glancing briefly at his face. She couldn't place anything out of the ordinary and yet, the feeling…

She had to bite the bullet and just ask; knowing her anxiety would cause her to implode at any second.

"So, what did Seamus have to say?" She tried, innocently, but her throat caught midway and it came out rushed. Hermione attempted at acting casual by heading over to the kitchen to brew a tea, but she felt Ron freeze at her question. The atmosphere became dense and a sense of unease spread to her fingertips.

The witch set the pot on the stove and turned around to see Ron watching her. "Nonsense, I thought." He strode closer, "Until now…why're you so curious?"

"What no, I was just wondering." Hermione stammered, too fast yet again. Breathe Hermione. For the love of god.

Ron was closer now, she could reach out and touch him, bring him back to her. Except he didn't look like Ron, there was a glint in the redhead's eye and he was towering over her in a manner she had never witnessed.

"Seamus was under the false impression that Malfoy was on the team with you guys. He, for some reason, believed that not only did you two spend the week together on it, but that you even went out to drinks with him." Ron whispered, looking for answers in her eyes.

"Tell me he's mistaken Hermione."

She was frozen, unable to move. Maybe they could just talk it out, maybe it would be fine.

"Because you wouldn't lie to me right. My fiancée wouldn't do that to me." He muttered. She could feel his breath on her, the cinnamon she often found comfort in, overwhelming. He reached to caress her cheek, moving his thumb, stroking her lips but it wasn't comforting. Too gentle. Too unlike Ron.

"Tell me he's lying baby." Ron's voice was lower than she'd ever heard it. Hermione willed herself to say something, to do something, but her body refused to move.

She could handle this, if she would just…where was her wand?

He reached and tucked a loose curly hair strand behind her ear, his hand trailing to the back of her head. She felt a gentle tug on her scalp as the man tilted her head back and kisses her softly. "Why won't you answer me?"

"I - … Ron, listen," she tried, her voice hoarse, filling with a weakness that disgusted her Gryffindor soul, "We worked together but there were other people there too, it didn't mean anything."

She felt his grip tighten on her hair and words tumbled out of her. "We all went out to celebrate on completing the case. I swear, Ron, it was nothing, we were barely ever alone." His face was inches from hers and she swore that this was it. This was where his gentle murmurs turned into anger, into violence but then…he kissed her.

Hard.

Their bodies hit the wall and Ron became ravenous. Claiming every inch of her mouth with his tongue, breathing his life into her.

"Another lie." He mumbled on her mouth, "I know that you're weren't at Daphne's that night."

Her breath hitched in her throat, but she didn't push him away. Was this what everyone called jealousy sex? She could do this; she could handle this person until Ron came back to her. Just breathe, breathe Hermione.

Ron reached for her, lifting her up and placing her on the rickety dining table, mouth still on hers. He took a break, looking deep into her eyes while reaching for her skirt and ripping it off. Hermione's eyes grew wide, she hadn't seen him like this before. His hands glided up her thighs and his lips found hers again, except it was deeper this time, with something to prove.

Ron reached her knickers and her eyes widened, surely, he wouldn't, no, of course not.

Ron pushed her knickers aside with his fingers and didn't hesitate to shove them inside her. His dark eyes found hers and a satisfaction bloomed when Hermione gasped and clutched on to him.

"Is this what he did to you that night?"

It was happening too fast; she didn't have enough time to cast a lubrication charm. Where the hell was her wand? Ron pumped her with his fingers, dry, his eyes never leaving Hermione's face.

"Ow, Ron, the friction." Ron's eyes darkened and he shoved harder, pumping faster. "Ron…Ron that hurts. RON."

"Did you scream his name too?" Their faces inches from each other.

"What? Stop. Ron, STOP." His fingers stopped abruptly, and he yanked them out, his hands resting on either side of Hermione as the man's face fell into her lap.

"Why can't you see Hermione. He's nothing. I _love_ you. He will never love you like I do."

She clenched her eyes, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. Neither of them moved, time becoming irrelevant.

At some point the boy began to shake, and bursts of sobs filled the deafened air. Her thighs caught his tears while her heart unwillingly broke for her best friend. The boy, the man, she loved more than herself. Her hands brushed through the wavy red locks, trying to soothe him.

With fear, she realized that at this moment, she had not a shred of anger at the weeping boy, just an urge to comfort.

The realization disgusted her more than the events of the evening.

She wanted to be angry, to yell, to scream, to turn away and never look back but how could she turn away from _him_ , her entire world. Her person.

She wondered if the sorting hat would still place her in Gryffindor.

"Ron," she whispered.

His head shifted, slowly looking up, his expression filled with fear, regret and a hint of shock, "Hermione. Please don't leave, Hermione –

"I'm not going anywhere, breathe, Ron, I'm here." She didn't realize she meant the words until they tumbled out, could she even leave if she wanted to? She didn't know anything else.

A new set of sobs burst from his chest, relief pushing out his other emotions.

Hermione started again, her voice soft but forceful, "I love you, more than anything Ron. Malfoy will never hold a candle to how much I feel for you. He's irrelevant."

"I know 'Mione, I know. I just forgot for a little while."

Ron seemed to come back to his senses, straightening up and clearing his throat, "Listen, I need some space okay? I'll be back in…" he trailed off.

Hermione nodded, surprised at how much she was looking forward to being alone for a while but hiding the slight optimism with a solemn, "Okay."

* * *

Hermione had passed the last couple days in a trance, her mind reeling yet again with a different Ron than she had known. She'd heard all those stories in the papers with toxic boyfriends and women who couldn't get out and always imagined that should she ever be in that scenario, not that she'd let it happen in the first place, but that she'd just leave at the first sign of trouble.

The women weren't with Ron though, they weren't with men that were mostly perfect, that could be beautiful and good and make them feel so loved and just, at times, had some faults. The men in the papers were evil, _evil_ , and Ron was simply not like that. She wasn't the type of girl that just ran away and deserted her best friend anyway, most of her job as his person was to be there for him, right?

It was at times like these that she missed her mom the most, her mom would've embraced her, made her tea and know exactly what to say to make it better. Hermione's eyes burned as the box she kept hidden in a dark corner of her mind threatened to burst. Her brain buzzed with warning and Hermione clenched her jaw, pushing the lid back on with all of her force and clearing her mind.

Hermione had her Occlumency training today and the last thing she needed was for Daphne to know more about her than absolutely necessary. She examined her thoughts again, pushing everything about Ron as far back as it could go. Hermione wasn't aware if this was actually doing anything, but her book _Occlumency for Beginners_ had indicated that she should just visualize it happening with a calm mind, and it would.

The newly, empty minded witch arrived at the supposed room indicated on her letter for where her training would occur. A long dark-haired man was already waiting, for an instance her thoughts flitted to Sirius, he had the same exaggerated cheek bones, deep set eyes and even the same stance but his expression held none of the same warmth or love but rather boredom.

"Ah, the Miss Granger, I presume?"

"Yes, Daphne Greengrass is meant to train me."

"I am aware, I will be present to monitor progress and will conclude the session once you have the basic knowledge."

Hermione gulped, hoping Occlumency was an innate talent of hers so that she could get out of the office early.

"Please do not fret, Miss Granger, the ministry only requires basic knowledge so you should be able to leave shortly, considering your intelligence."

Hermione sighed at the line; she wished her intelligence was enough, but this was not something that she had been able to learn in her books and in those cases, her mind flitted to Quidditch, she was rarely talented.

Daphne arrived shortly, her hair up tight in a pony tail with not a single strand out of place. She wondered how that was like, being someone able to look so put together and professional and Hermione felt a pang of longing.

"Let's get this over with," Daphne stated, bored. Wow her and the Sirius looking man should form a club.

"Alright, Miss Granger," the man spoke, "please focus on your breathing," Hermione almost snorted at those words, "and let Miss Greengrass in. This is just so you can get accustomed to the feeling of sharing a headspace with another. Be mindful of how it feels but do not resist."

Hermione nodded, _easy enough_. Daphne looked into her eyes and muttered _Legilimens._

Hermione instantly felt what her beginners Occlumency book was trying to describe. Her brain felt too small, too cramped with Daphne's presence. Hermione willed herself not to fight it as Daphne pushed deeper, accessing memories.

It was a happy one, she had forgotten what it felt like to feel so carefree. Her 13-year-old self, sitting in the backseat of a car as her parents bickered about what to have for dinner.

"We had Chinese last week Dan, technically, _technically,_ it is now my turn to pick the place."

Her father sighed, "Jean you always pick tacos, and you know that my stomach can't digest beans."

"Oh, don't _I_ know, I think the whole neighborhood can smell your post-bean states."

Hermione watched herself burst into giggles at the implication and her mother turned around with eyes filled with a kind of love she didn't realize that she missed until her heart constricted and her airflow stopped.

Hermione's brain instinctively thought of her reason of sadness and another memory played, the worst one. She watched herself stare at her parents as she removed any indication of her existence. She couldn't relive this, not again, not when she had barely survived it the first time.

 _Stop_.

 _STOP_.

Hermione mentally pushed against Daphne, trying to force her out.

"NO," she screamed, unaware if it was still in her head or out loud. Her parents dissolved in front of her eyes and she came back to the present, staring at Daphne's face.

"She didn't leave when I told her to." Hermione spat, swerving to look at the man supposed to be overseeing them.

"Miss Granger, you came back to present the instant you uttered 'No'." 

"I said stop in my head before that."

"Many times the communication is simply missed internally, I have doubt that Miss Greengrass would stay there against your will."

He turned to face Daphne that had yet to say anything. She was still staring at Hermione, like she had just met this bushy-haired witch, "Yes, I simply did not hear it."

Hermione scoffed, there was no way.

"You will have to go again of course," said the man, "This time Miss Granger, feel free to push back and toy with the idea of choosing which memories go out."

Hermione nodded, _bring it on_. Daphne stared at her once again and muttered the word, Hermione ready for the familiar head dampening feeling. She pushed a random memory out at chance, her getting engaged, to see if it held. With surprise, she found the familiar moment replaying and could feel Daphne's eyes scrutinizing the interaction.

Never mind, the witch did not deserve to know that. Hermione inhaled and shoved exactly where she could feel Daphne's presence, mentally pushing her away from Ron and her engagement but accidentally leading her deeper into her mind.

Where was she? Hermione panicked when she couldn't feel Daphne's presence anymore until a dull pain at the base of her head reeled her to the dark-haired witch. No. This was too deep, there were too many hidden things here.

A forbidden memory was picked, her flying backwards into a wall with Ron's face falling in shame. The sharp crack of her wrist still turned her stomach and Hermione was forced to relive her shock at her best friend. She could laugh at her naïve self, so unaware of the complexities of the red-haired man.

The memory twisted into another one of Ron, except this time his face held no shame but rather the opposite, emotions of ownership, anger and resentment. He was nearing her in the kitchen, he was picking her up, finding the spot between her legs. Hermione realized the danger of how this might look from the outside, her frightened face and the slight shake of her head when Ron spoke. Any moment now he would enter her, any moment now her world would shift again.

Hermione suddenly became aware of the fact that she was not alone, there was an unwanted pair of eyes watching with forceful curiosity. This was far too personal; this was her moment alone.

"Get out." Hermione said, no wavering in her outspoken voice. Even the man watching must have heard her, "I said, GET OUT."

Her brain was still reliving the earth-shattering moment between her and her fiancé, his finger pushing her knickers aside and Hermione's whimpers of resistance.

"I SAID NO." She screamed, "NO! _Legilimens."_

Hermione's brain instantly felt like it was freefalling, landing into a dark, unknown place. She was thrown into a memory of _herself?_ Hermione saw as she sat in at the great hall, giggling at something Ron had said while simultaneously hitting him with a book, the hall resembled her sixth year. She saw Daphne staring with disgust and her eyes travelled to a lean blonde boy also watching the interaction. Malfoy? What?

The world transformed to her outside at the lake while Daphne and Malfoy sat, Daphne playing with his collar and Malfoys eyes, shut, head leaning back against a tree. She was reading something, her potions text she recalled, as Ginny ran up yelling her name. Present day Hermione's attention was at the Slytherin couple, Malfoy's eyes opened wide, his back turning immediately to find Ginny and Hermione now chatting. Hermione couldn't miss the heartbreak in Daphne's eyes.

 _Enough._ She heard ricocheting around the brain as she was pushed out to present day. Their eyes held for a moment, knowing too much about the other to ever be the same again.

"I quit," Daphne said, her voice was tight as she whipped around and exited the room, the witch jumping at the slam of the door.

"That went well," the man started with indiscernible amusement, "You are to practice one more time, but now that your trainer has quit…" he trailed off.

"I displayed memories of my choosing, pushing out a trained Legilimens _and_ entered her brain. I'd say I'm qualified for that _basic knowledge in Occlumency_ stamp _,_ wouldn't you?"

The man nodded slowly, "You have received results beyond the capacity of a beginner level, yes…yes, you are free to leave Miss Granger. Thank you for your time."

Hermione sighed, heading back to her office, her brain already reliving the memories she had seen and categorizing the blonde Slytherin's behaviour. Had he really despised her that much that he couldn't even look away? What was he doing, making scenarios of gruesome ways for her to die? She wouldn't really be surprised.

Hermione had started on her ministry work when an airplane memo zoomed into her office. It was rare that she got memos lately, her work had been mostly independent since the Gringotts case and Kendra always just barged into her office when Hermione was needed.

The memo landed on her desk and unraveled perfectly, not a crease in sight. It was an empty parchment? She picked it up and turned it around when the saw the small words written in the middle of the page.

_In case: 112 Kent Street._

_DG_

She stared at the parchment trying to comprehend the small act of…kindness, care? Hermione finally decided that it was mockery, Daphne couldn't want to provide any actual help. She would bet her galleons that it was a fake address and yet, Hermione memorized it, subconsciously tucking it away into the same part of her brain things now went to hide.


	5. Chapter 5

The morning brought a light tapping on the bushy-haired witch's window, and the girl shot awake, panting and fearing the worst. Hermione heart was in her throat, instinctively reaching for her wand when she realized that Nautica, her owl, was outside. Hermione willed herself to focus on her breathing as she unlatched her panel and the owl hooted inside happily. The witch carefully removed the letter from Nautica's ties and sat back on her bed staring at the blank envelope.

She opened the yellow parchment and scanned looking for a name, _Parvati_ was scrawled at the bottom. Of course, she had forgotten that she had even sent a letter to her, a whole lifetime had passed since then.

_Hermione,_

_It's so great to hear from you, I hope you're doing well. I'm doing fine, I'm in the states now working as a healer (your poor owl must've had to travel so far, give her treats for me)._

_I'm saddened to say that I understand where your question is coming from. Lavender loved Ron, Hermione, and she would never share anything negative about him, but yes, I do remember her random bruises. She also told me that they were from her being clumsy, but I was always suspicious. I can't say for certain, but she seemed to abruptly stop being clumsy after they broke up, if that tells you anything._

_She also started having these arbitrary mood swings a month or two in the relationship where she'd be ecstatic one day and then just refuse to talk to even eat the next. I'm not sure the cause but the timeline matches up._

_I hope I'm wrong Hermione, I hope it was nothing but if it was, is, then please, please, get out. You're one of the smartest, bravest, kindest witches I had the privilege of knowing at Hogwarts and you deserve love that doesn't hurt._

_Yours truly,_

_Parvati_

Hermione read the letter twice, focusing on the middle portion. She felt this need to defend Ron to the letter, Parvati didn't know him like she did. Hermione had known Ron for ten years before anything like this had occurred, so it was likely that Lavender just didn't understand or just didn't know how to handle….

Hermione froze, shocked at the voice inside her head. What was happening to her? Who was she becoming? Hermione tossed the letter into her fireplace, not giving it another chance to doubt her faith in herself or her finance, though that portion of her trust was dwindling by the day.

She just needed a distraction, a reason to get out of the flat and reconnect with who she was. She didn't realise how much she missed her friends until her brain thought about seeing them again, Luna, Ginny, Neville, _Harry._ She needed to see Harry.

Hermione fabricated a text to Ron, letting him know of her intentions, and implying the warning that she'd be heading to Wales, in case that was where he had decided to 'get away'.

Ron's reply was instant and filled with his usual mannerism that Hermione felt a pang for her best friend. He might have been the reason she didn't know who she was anymore but that didn't stop her from missing him. His text indicated that he was still in London, staying with George but would probably return by the time she got back.

Hermione took that as enough approval to depart and prepared her belongings. She quickly scratched a note to Kendra, saying that she had a family emergency and would be gone for a couple days but that she was taking her work with her. She was sure that Kendra would give her a prompt lecture on missing work as soon as she was back but that was another day's problem.

"Nautica, can you take this to the ministry? I'll be gone for a couple days but come to Harry's if you want, okay?"

The bird hooted and Hermione fed her extra treats before she departed, watching her brown elegance until it was nothing but a speck. The witch packed up any remaining clothes, almost forgetting her toothbrush, and walked to the apparition point without a thought of even warning Harry before she just showed up at his doorstep.

She looked to make sure that no one was lingering and apparated.

* * *

Hermione arrived at the green saturated village and sighed. It was nothing like London and everything she needed. The witch realised that she was on some sort of cliff, with cloudy water running as far as her eyes could see and grass covering the other half of her world. She could make out hills and valleys and a little multi-coloured house not far from her. If Hermione wasn't absolutely freezing, still dressed in London attire, she may have adventured on her own but right now, the predictable heat of indoors was substantially more appealing.

Her eye caught movement on the outside of the house and Hermione instantly knew him at his steady and balanced posture, his messy black hair and his welcoming expression before her eyes even took in the round glasses.

 _Harry_.

Hermione dropped her bags and sprinted, knocking straight into her dark-haired friend with an _oomph_. His eyes were wide, but he eventually wrapped his arms around the witch, holding just as firm.

He pulled away first, questioning her abrupt arrival, "Hermione. What are you…where did you-

"I'll explain later okay, I just wanted to see you."

Harry's eyes travelled to her face, and she saw the telltale concern bloom as he saw her, no doubt looking as wary as she felt. "Hermione, what happened?"

Hermione felt her throat closing as she stared at her alarmed friend, she couldn't do this right now. She looked down at his beaten-up tennis shoes and gave a small shake of her head with clenched teeth.

Harry, of course, understood her implication immediately and whispered, "Okay. Later then." He gave her arm a small squeeze and started again with a trying optimism in his voice, "Ginny's going to be so excited Hermione, and you're going to love Wales." He motioned for her to come inside but the witch had not yet recovered enough to put up her front, one that was awfully necessary in front of Ginny.

"I left my bags. Harry, go on, I'll meet you inside."

He gave her a small nod, his posture notably drooping looking at Hermione's back and the small shake of her shoulders as she tottered to her belongings.

Breathe, please Hermione, just fucking, agh. Her breaths came sharply as her anxiety pooled out of her once again. She glanced back at the house to make sure her friend had gone inside before dropping short of her belongings and dissolving into the soft grass of Wales. Her mind thought back to her short lived Occlumency training and she willed the little energy she had left to take away her panic, her sadness and anything short of positive emotions that her friends in that house knew her for.

Hermione imagined her box opening a miniscule amount and shoved all of her dark thoughts inside. She hoped it would hold, but even she knew that the box was getting quite cramped to sit comfortably.

The witch, once her breaths were coming at even intervals and her surroundings came into focus, gathered her belongings and marched towards the house, knocking with intention when she arrived at the door.

Familiar red hair greeted her, and her brain posed no intention of flitting back to the man that shared the shade of locks, Hermione was present and when her eyes crinkled with happiness and she grinned, she meant it.

"Hermione! I barely believed Harry when he mentioned it, you know how his imagination sometimes runs wild."

"Hey, can you not take a dig at me the minute Hermione gets in." Harry's face was trying to pull a stern expression, but his voice wavered with laughter.

"How would she know it's me then?"

Harry rolled his eyes and playfully pushed Ginny out of the way while grabbing Hermione's bags. "Like anyone else could pull off that hair," He muttered.

Ginny whooped Harry on the head while simultaneously pulling Hermione inside.

The house was decorated with no color scheme in mind, there was a retro orange clock sitting on a green ascent wall behind a red squashy loveseat. Hermione's eye flitted to the broom placed like wall décor and noticed that the wallpaper on that section was filled with miniature snitches. Only their coffee table seemed like it wasn't picked out by a drunk teenager with its intricate detailing in the wood.

"Hermione," Harry said returning, "You can get settled in the guest room if you'd like, I put your bags in. It's just down the hall, to your right."

Hermione nodded and skirted to where Harry had pointed. Her room, thankfully, was much more neutral with only an abstract painting being too bright to stare at. Hermione started to remove the clothes she had haphazardly thrown inside the bag while simultaneously inspecting their potential uses and hanging them in the narrow closet. The repetitive motion calmed her and she, for an instance, forgot herself; what bliss that was.

Hermione arrived back to the main room silently where Harry and Ginny had flitted to the kitchen; Ginny was making tea and Harry, pulling out a tray from the oven.

"I told you to just make them with magic." She said, analyzing his muffins, "They seem a little dark."

"You can't magic impeccable taste," he said, lifting up a muffin to her mouth, keen for her to taste.

Ginny took a big bite right off the top, immediately huffing out quick breaths resembling a dragon, "Hot, hot, hot, hot." Harry chuckled, shaking his head and cooling the rest of the muffins with a charm. "Ou, wait, not bad Chef Potter."

"I think you pronounced incredible wrong."

"I think you overestimate your abilities."

"I think you had no problem with my abilities last night."

Ginny gasped, "Potter!"

"Weasley!" Harry cried in the same tone and Ginny wacked him with an oven mitt while the dark-haired man chuckled. All Hermione could do was watch the perfectly normal relationship. Her chest ached to have these moments again with Ron, when there was nothing less than love and trust and faith. If she willed it hard enough, could she get it back?

Hermione cleared her throat lightly and Ginny whipped around, "Oh my gosh, how long have you been standing there? Come, sit, sit."

* * *

Hermione fell back into the plush, burnt orange sheets, exhausted with the tiring amounts of social interaction. Ginny had grilled her about every aspect of her life, and Hermione, not wanting to be rude, had complied.

Kind of anyway, with little white lies spread over how she had tons of friends at work and Ron was, "Just incredible really." There was no reason to worry Ginny about her trifling problems, but she had a feeling Harry wasn't as satisfied with her answers. She'd deal with him tomorrow; she thought and fell asleep within a minute.

The witch had slept soundly for the first time in weeks until she was being shaken awake. Hermione woke up with a start and her mind travelled to the years before the war where this could only mean someone was in trouble, or worse.

"Hermione wake up." Harry was whispering.

"Harry! What? What's wrong?" Her heart was thudding through her chest and her brain still felt disoriented.

"Nothing, come on." He was dragging her out of her warm, oh so warm, bed and shoved a woolly sweater at her, "Put that on."

Hermione complied, years of Harry's friendship had taught her to do the task and ask questions later. She silently dug the itchy sweater over her hair, now double the size with the Wales humidity, and followed the messy black hair out the house. Harry's hair was standing up at the back and Hermione felt a little more at ease. She'd followed that same head into battle, into shrieking shacks and forbidden forests, whatever this was, she could handle it.

Harry brought her to the same cliff she had apparated to and just sat down, facing what she remembered as endless water. Hermione hesitated, what the hell?

"Sit down Hermione."

She gulped and, against her better judgement, sat next to him.

"You woke me up to sight see…in the dark?"

"The sunrises are incredible here," Was all he offered.

Hermione stared into the black surroundings; the light of the moon would allow for some visibility had anything with boundaries actually existed.

"Wales is gorgeous Harry; how do you like it so far?"

"It's fine." She thought he was done speaking when he stayed silent for a minute longer until the purpose of this random adventure finally came out. "Hermione…it's Ron isn't it?"

Her breath stopped in her throat, and she willed herself to not gasp out loud. Hermione took a breath and with innocent confusion answered, "What about Ron?"

Harry sighed and looked back out to the endless darkness, "I don't know about you but you're still my best friend, and I still know when you're lying, and you were lying last night Hermione. You couldn't say one good thing about Ron without your voice getting higher or your fingers twitching."

He stopped, waiting for her to say something, anything, but when she didn't, he finished with, "You may be fooling everyone in your life, even yourself, but you can't fool me."

Hermione waited for an excuse to come out of her mouth, or to ridicule Harry and say he was reading too much into it but with the light of the moon, she could faintly make out his green eyes and his scar and his comforting presence was engulfing her. Her body needed someone, no not anyone, it needed _Harry_ to know.

But to tell him would be to compromise his friendship with Ron. It would be to threaten a relationship she knew both Harry and Ron would need throughout their lives. Hermione shook her head, eyes stinging with tears and a knot in her throat.

"I can't." She croaked into the oblivion.

She felt Harry nod and when he spoke again, his voice was stern, "I thought as much. Listen Hermione, I know I don't know what's happening with Ron, but I do know you. And I know everyone talks about how you're the smartest witch of your age and how you're brave and loyal and selfless but you do not need to let that define you, okay?"

Hermione's tears silently spilled out of her eyes and she rested her head on his familiar shoulders, she felt his head lay lightly on hers.

"It's okay to be wrong, to be weak or selfish because at the end of the day, you can't give what you don't have." He whispered; his words saturated with a desperate persuasion.

Hermione's tears were soaking Harry's shirt now, but he didn't seem to mind. "I need you to take care of yourself, I need you-," for the first time that night Harry's voice cracked but he continued, clearing his throat, "I need you to be okay Hermione."

She nodded her head slightly, knowing Harry would feel it, unable to convince her throat to open again and sat sitting there with her friend until the sun rose. It truly was incredible, the sky changing into marvellous colours, and the water accepting them as its own.

When her and Harry went back to the house, the sun was fully risen, and the warmth of the day was making her sweater itch and her back damp. They were greeted with the glorious smell of breakfast: eggs, bacon, pancakes, French toast placed out on the counter professionally with Ginny singing into her spatula as she waited for her egg to sizzle.

"You're back! I was wondering where you guys had gone off to."

Harry went over and kissed her on the cheek, looking at the plates of various dishes with a suspicious brow, "You just learned how to cook while we were gone?"

"I have always known how to cook, Potter, you just underestimate me."

"Mhm, mhm." He walked over to the garbage as Ginny opened her mouth to shout a _no_ , but it was too late, and Harry was pulling out a cardboard box labelled _Welsh Breakfast and Eatery_.

Harry chuckled and Ginny threw an egg at him which only made him roar with laughter, even Hermione smiled. It was nice to see that they hadn't changed since Hogwarts.

Hermione grabbed food on her plate and sat at the table that had all different kinds of chairs, some suited for a bar counter and others just beanbags. Harry and Ginny joined her, and they ate in silence for a bit until Ginny asked, "Harry and I have work today, you'll be okay on your own?"

Harry looked at Hermione with concern and she was sure that he was about to make an excuse as to why he'd be staying home but she spoke up, "Yes, I have some adventuring to do anyway; I have a feeling Wales doesn't get this kind of sun very often."

Ginny beamed and Harry gave her a small but genuine smile. The rest of breakfast was taken over by Ginny detailing all of the hikes around their house and the best places to relax without the incessant babble of tourists.

"Technically Ginny, I am a tourist." Hermione said with a forced amused brow, but it was enough, and Ginny light up at the sight of the old Hermione.

"Yeah, yeah but you don't babble."

Hermione grinned, that much was true.

* * *

The adventuring witch sat on a log, staring at the fork she had just come across. The trail thus far had been fairly easy, her feet only tripping her enough to stutter rather than face plant but now, she was forced to choose rather than aimlessly follow the cleared-out path.

She almost regretted leaving her wand resting carefully on the bed, but she had to do this without magic, she wasn't sure why, but it seemed necessary. Hermione analyzed the two paths. They seemed identical in the sage overhangs, bushy neighbors and roots sprawling from the ground but felt different.

The one on the left felt familiar, the way the trees went tall, how they held the same red berries she had become accustomed to on the rest of her hike and how the path was straight for as far as she could see.

The one on the right was inviting her to explore what lay beyond the entrance. The trail curved around almost at the beginning and she couldn't make out much further. The berries were green on these shorter trees, giving an illusion of a much darker hike.

Left or right?

Right or left?

Hermione finally decided and started walking through, plucking the red berries as she strolled and plopping them into her mouth. She was certain they were safe, their properties along with uses popping up in her brain from one of her herbology lectures, _Sorbus aucuparia_ , the witch recalled.

Hermione's unease grew as the trail continued, had Ginny said it would take this long? Had she chosen wrong? She was sure she had seen that particular tree before. Hermione walked along, cursing herself for leaving behind her wand.

Her concentration was so diverted to her surroundings that she missed the tree root sprouting out of the ground, perfectly placed to catch her foot, and Hermione went flying. The berries fell out of her hands as she faceplanted into the dirt. _Dammit._

She got up, wiped off the soil stuck on her clothes, not even bothering with what was definitely on her face and continued down the path. Her eyes were now fixated on the trail, as she carefully stepped over every rock, every stump, every root but this time, she missed the long-awaited exit that would lead her back onto the cliffs.

Her chest grew heavy as her anxiety bloomed. How long had she been here? How long had she been walking? Hermione swore it was darker now and the once inviting trail had developed a sinister feel. Hermione gasped, trying to breathe but her claustrophobia was growing.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._

Hermione's pace quickened as she tried to find an exit, she was about to just say fuck it and turn back around when she heard her name.

"HARRY!" She screamed, breaking out into a run towards the noise. "HARRY!"

She pummelled right into him, almost dropping both of them to the ground.

"Oh, thank god," he said. "I was beginning to think the bear ate you."

"BEAR?!"

"Hermione it's a joke." He stared at her with wary eyes, "What happened?"

"I think I picked the wrong side at the fork."

"They're both fine, but you just need to watch out for the exit in this one, it's less clear."

"Exit? There was no exit." Hermione said, wide eyed.

"It's like two hours back, near the beginning of the fork."

Hermione groaned, "Remind me never to go into nature again."

Harry chuckled and hooked his arm on hers, "Let's get out of here."

They reached the house, Hermione absolutely exhausted with the day, her stomach flipping with hunger.

"I cooked some stew," Harry said, grabbing her a bowl, "Do you uh…want to get cleaned up first?"

Hermione examined her clothing in the light and saw that it was unrecognizable, with rips and dirt spread out like she was in a gothic band.

"God, yes. Give me a second."

Hermione had decided on just changing but after viewing her hair, from which she removed a whole leaf, and the dirt streaked and dried on her cheeks, the witch decided that a shower was not only necessary for her but also those that had to be near her.

She let the hot water run over her for much longer than necessary, the heat easing muscles she didn't even know were tight and washing away the day. The water ran cold when the witch finally exited to the kitchen, Ginny and Harry had already finished their bowls and were sitting at the table while Ginny explained her Quidditch practice.

Hermione's ears blocked out Ginny's words, partially because it was Quidditch, and partially because her eyes fell to her dark-haired best friend. He was gazing at her like she was the most marvellous thing he had ever seen, his ears catching every word, eyes regarding her with nothing more or less than pure love.

The witch leaned against the doorframe for a second longer before turning back and making her way to the guest room. She had imposed enough, and it was time, time for her to go back to her person.

Even though it was harder lately, even though that love was tested, she needed to give it another chance because there was only one person that had ever looked at her like Harry was looking at Ginny and he was waiting for her at home. Maybe he was her only shot, maybe he was all she got.

So, when Hermione arrived back at her flat after saying her goodbyes and accepted Ron into her arms, it wasn't because she felt bad for him or because she felt the need to give him another chance, but it was rather for herself, because she needed to give her chance at happiness, at love, another shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH dramione shippers, please don't kill me! Hermione needs to go through this...fork in her life...(see what I did there hehe)
> 
> I can't believe that we're 23 000 words into this, it started off as just a rough sketch of an idea but it has become so much more *insert tear emoji*.
> 
> Anyhow, I'm not too sure when the next chapter will be up but knowing my midnight urges to write this fic, probably soonish. Have a glass of wine, and throw an egg at your significant other for me :)
> 
> As always, review and lemme know what you think!
> 
> *muah*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Just a reminder that first and foremost, this is a dramione fic so if that's annoying to you or you would like Ron to have some character arc where he becomes non-abusive, you may want to stop reading now. It's only going to go downhill from here.
> 
> For the rest of you, strap in! We just got started;)
> 
> Chapter content warning for abuse

"Can you pass the milk?" Ron asked. It had been five days since she returned from Wales, and Hermione had been trying, really trying, to seem like her normal self that the redhaired boy fell in love with, but everything about him took her back to that dreadful night on her dining table.

His comforting sweet cinnamon scent felt sickly and made her nose turn. His face didn't look like his anymore but rather was now shared with that man that entered her for purposes other than affection and his presence wasn't a place of solace but made her lungs seize and heart ache. Still, Hermione was trying, though for reasons that seemed unclear at times.

The witch passed the milk without so much as a glance. She hadn't noticed him come into the kitchen and had been reading her novel in silence.

He seemed to move hesitantly now, always tiptoeing, never wanting to startle her. Maybe if he was normal, she would be too. Maybe this was his fault.

Hermione felt him linger at the counter, his gaze still on her and she glanced up after a couple seconds.

His face fell before he started, "Hermione are we okay?" His voice horse, filled with ache.

The witch's heart got heavier at his question and answered with as much optimistic honesty she could foster. "I don't know Ron; I don't know how to go back to us."

He carefully walked over to Hermione and dropped to his knees, eyes glistening with tears before he clenched his eyes and pushed them back. He took a wavery breath started silently, "I know we can get past this Hermione; you can't give up on us –

"Ron, I'm not but –

"Wait, let me finish. I can promise you that I won't give up, not in a million years. Because I believe in our love, and I know you do too. I'm not the best, I know that Hermione, I'm not even close but I'll work on myself everyday till I am."

Ron hesitated to continue but decided that it was worth it when he finished with, "I wasn't really at George's but an anger management clinic. They have this famous one in France run by this healer, Healer Lafaille, and I was there the whole time. I'm better now than before, I swear. And I'll keep going back for as long as it takes."

Hermione took a shaky breath, stunned at his effort. He was trying, getting help? Her heart cracked a little out of the cage she had placed it in.

She slowly took his hands into hers and spoke, "Really?"

"Yes, I swear on my life."

"Okay," she sighed, "If you're getting help, then I'll try harder."

Ron's face burst into relief, but Hermione spoke again, this time with force and conviction, "Ron, if anything like that ever happens again, if you ever hurt me again, I'm leaving. I will walk out the door and never come back."

He nodded quickly, his face brimming with hope as her wrapped his arms around her waist and placed his head onto her lap.

"I promise 'Mione, I promise on Merlin's grave that it will never happen again."

"Okay then, let's make some breakfast."

* * *

Hermione's Tuesday had gone perfectly well at the office, solving not two but three cases before lunch even came around and Kendra, after seeing her progress, had been less cross about her missing work.

When the witch opened the door to her flat, she did a double take, thinking she had barged into a strangers flat. Her apartment was covered in bouquets of various colored roses, along with tulips, sunflowers and even a cactus. She could hear Ron mumbling in the bedroom and she followed the noise, still taking in her walkway turned garden.

"Bloody hell, I said I wanted one sample of each kind, NOT A WHOLE BOUQUET, who in their right mind – oh thank god, Hermione! Whatever, just bill my tab for the cost, thank you for bloody nothing."

"Uh – Ron? Why is my flat giving me allergies?"

"Ugh I'm sorry, I had ordered flowers just to see what would look good for the wedding, but the –

The wedding! How had she forgotten about the wedding? Hermione quickly calculated the timing in her head and realized that it was less than a month away, A MONTH!

"Oh my god, the wedding! We haven't even seen venues yet, let alone figure out the guest list, or the caterer. Oh my, what am I going to wear?"

Ron stood back and watched her with amusement, "There she is, I was worried. We're getting married in Wales, Ginny basically begged us to use their cliff sceneries, I've already called Madame Malkins and she has you down for an appointment tomorrow, I've sent out the invites – we only know like 20 people Hermione, we should go out more – and the caterers are bringing by samples on Friday."

Hermione stood back, gaping at him, "You've – you're…organized? Are you some stranger Polyjuced to look like my fiancé? Quick, what is my Patronus?"

Ron chuckled and walked over to her, giving her a quick peck on the forehead, "For our wedding Hermione? I've been thinking about this for ages," he walked out of the room and yelled back, "And your Patronus is a grindylow, DUH!"

She grinned and went back to analyze the flowers until she realized that she did not even have a minuscule amount of care at which flowers would be at the wedding. "RON," she called across the flat, "YOU PICK THE FLOWERS."

She could hear him laughing in the other room when he answered, "ALREADY DONE."

* * *

"Miss, that is gorgeous, but perhaps one that is less conservative? You are young enough to pull it off."

Hermione stared at her reflection in the massive mirror at Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, she had been trying on dresses for the past hour, willing something to speak to her but they all looked the same, white, long, hideous.

The intern helping her, Mia, bless her for being so kind, didn't have a talent for picking out pieces and Hermione, having no morsel of fashion sense, made their duo quite impractical.

This particular dress had long sleeves, a waist synching barely under her breasts and a poof at the bottom that reminded her much of a tutu. It was absolutely dreadful, but they all were, in some way or another. She just needed to not hate one, _just one,_ she prayed.

"Granger, you didn't tell me you're auditioning for the ugly duckling." A voice snarked from behind her.

The witch in the dress turned and saw the arrogant Slytherin approaching.

"Well, the ugly duckling became a swan, so I believe that was a compliment, thank you Malfoy."

He rolled his eyes and plopped himself in the couch behind her, "What's next?"

She eyed him, "No one invited you."

"I'm doing the wizarding world a favour from having to see you in a dreadful gown, who knows, maybe you'd wear that monstrosity."

She huffed, "You really are a git."

"Never denied it."

Mia was watching the interaction with wide eyes and finally started, "Shall I change you out of this one Miss? The next one is already in the dressing room."

"Yes –

"Mia, right?" Draco spoke.

Mia turned to him and whimpered a little at being spoke to so directly before answering in a little mousy tone, "Yes, sir."

"Show me where the dresses are, let's put her in something not horrendous."

"Hey," Hermione said, finger raised, "I don't know who you think you are but if you think –

"Granger, chill, I'm just doing Mia a favour so she doesn't have to stare at you all day."

Hermione huffed, crossing her arms and watched as Draco became amused at her reaction, she did want to leave early, who knows how long she'd be here with Mia.

"Fine. If you put me in a single, non-descent looking one, I will transfigure your eyebrows into caterpillars." She said, finishing with, "Mia, you're in charge here."

Mia nervously nodded and lead Malfoy to the dresses while Hermione headed to the change room to get herself out of the eyesore.

Hermione had been waiting for nearly twenty minutes, about to just grab her things and leave when she heard footsteps approaching but these were light, and single paired.

"Miss, I'm coming in."

"Wait, tell Malfoy to wait outside."

"Miss, he left."

"Left? Back to the seats?"

"Uhm, no, he said he had to go after picking out the dress and left the store ma'am."

Hermione felt a microscopic spark of disappointment she couldn't place before opening her door to allow the intern to enter. She was holding a pale cream dress with embroidered roses, but Hermione couldn't make out the rest in her arms. She lifted her arms up and Mia gently dressed her, charming it to fit snug around her bodice.

The witch followed Mia out to the main mirror and got on the platform. Her first glance took her breath away. The dress was marvelous. It had an off the shoulder lace sleave that blended in seamlessly with the top, the sweetheart neckline made her breasts look phenomenal and it hugged her curves in ways that she didn't even know was possible. The lace top travelled down the A-line, tapering out along the cream, netted bottom.

Hermione heard sniffles behind her and saw the intern whipping away a tear.

"What do you think Miss?" Mia squeaked.

"It's…fine, but how much is it?"

"2489 Galleons, Miss." Hermione's eyes almost popped out of her head, of course he would pick the most ridiculously expensive dress.

"That's a little out of my budget Mia."

"Oh no, the gentleman already paid."

"He WHAT." Hermione whipped around and Mia startled so hard she dropped the dress cover she was holding.

"Ye-yes, he gave me this to give you if you reacted badly." Mia handed her a small cardstock with neat cursive on it.

_Stop throwing a fit, consider it charity._

_Don't trip down the aisle._

_DM_

Hermione fumed at the note, how dare he…how DARE he – showing off his stupid trust fund and how she couldn't afford – well she'd show him one day. The witch crumpled the note into her hand.

"I'll send it straight to your house." Mia squeaked, she could hear the underlying plea for Hermione to just leave the store and Hermione nodded, not wanting to make Mia's life any more stressful that she already had. The witch vowed that she would pay the git back, with interest, soon enough.

She was exhausted by the time Hermione left the store and allowed herself a 20-minute refresher at Flourish and Blotts to unclog her dampened brain. She was browsing the new editions of Hogwarts textbooks, just for a look at what the kids were learning these days, when she turned and almost ran into a loopy eyed, blonde witch.

"Luna!" She gasped.

"Oh my, Hermione! I'm so sorry, I was trying to find the Wrackspurt, it zoomed right up my nose!"

Hermione giggled and launched herself around the beautifully crazy witch, "I missed you."

"We hang out in my dreams loads so I can't say it's been a while, but I have missed you too."

Hermione leaned back to look at her, Luna's blonde hair was done up in two buns on the crown of her head with beans attaching both sides. She wore multiple colorful necklaces that were making Hermione's eyes ache and had bursts of freckles along her nose.

"How are you?"

"Oh, fabulous Hermione, I was bit by a gnome just on my way here, can you believe it? Daddy always said it brings good luck…What about you Hermione? Why are you sad?"

"Sad? I'm not sad."

"Sure," was all Luna said, getting cross-eyed looking back at her nose.

"No really, I'm getting married in a few weeks and I couldn't be happier," Hermione waited for Luna to say something, but the witch was now craning her neck, trying to get a better view of her…nostrils it seemed like? "Luna, you are coming right? To the wedding?"

"I don't need to; I'll be at the actual one."

"Luna, this is the actual one."

"Sure."

Hermione sighed, exasperated, she had forgotten how much energy it took out of her to converse with Luna. "I'll see you later okay, at the _wedding_."

Luna smiled and waved as Hermione departed the bookstore, having gotten no new books and was even more exhausted than when she walked into the bookstore. Something that could only be made worse by the Slytherin boy eating at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour but for some reason, Hermione felt it extremely necessary to walk over and ask – no demand – under what authority he thought he could pick out a dress, pay for said dress and then just leave.

"Ah, I must have won a lottery to be graced by the Golden Girl twice in one day."

"Yes, the lottery of being an inconsiderate, little –

"Inconsiderate? I recall spending a hefty amount of money –

"That NO ONE asked you to do."

"Are you not aware of how wedding gifts work Granger?"

"Last I checked, you weren't even invited."

"It is saddening that I won't be able to see my investment in action, but I would rather eat flobberworms than see the Weasel –

Hermione didn't even bother correcting him as she spoke with a disgustingly disappointed voice on the first part of his response. "You could've stayed then...to see your _investment._ "

Malfoy gazed at her for a second before answering, "I couldn't."

"Why, you had an Ex-Death Eater meeting?" Their eyes were still locked on each other, both panting from the argument before Malfoy broke contact and abruptly rose from his eat, turning to leave before saying with all the bitterness he had,

"Shut up Granger."

"You can't leave first." Hermione said.

Malfoy paused, halfway turned, "What are you on –

Hermione spun and walked away, the hair on her neck standing.

* * *

The witch's days now passed in a whirlwind of wedding planning which was the more dreadful thing she had ever had to experience. Incessant lists she had to check, items that she was sure no one would even notice if they were present, took a little chunk of life out of her.

The witch had just spent a horrific amount of money on a cake – a _cake_ – as she arrived home and ditched all of her belongings for a shower instantly. She needed to get the wedding stress off of her. As always, her breath came easier and her muscles relaxed. She refused to dwell on the big day that was just two weeks away now as Hermione slowly lathered, taking her time in the hot bliss, oh how good the water felt –

"MIONEEEE, I NEED TO PEEEE."

She sighed at her shower head, so much for her moment of peace.

"COME IN." She yelled back.

Hermione willed the water to take her back into the dream state but after she heard the telltale sound of him washing his hands and it wasn't followed by the door but rather her shower curtain pulling back, she was rather…preoccupied.

Hermione gasped as her fiancée wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into him, "Hello Mrs. Weasley," he muttered into her ear.

"That's Mrs. Granger to you." She said back, turning around to face him. Ron's clothes had mysteriously disappeared, and she refrained from allowing her eyes to roam too much. Ron never liked the gaze.

She wrapped her hands around his neck, bringing his lips to hers, wet with shower water and soap. Hermione felt his length harden against her stomach as their kiss deepened and his hands travelled up to tease her nipples.

She dropped one hand to stroke his size, tightening slightly at the top, letting her thumb roam the tip. She had borrowed a book on sex techniques from the library and they had been paying off surprisingly well – and who says you can't learn everything from literature, she scoffed.

"What?" Ron groaned against her at her sound.

"Nothing, nothing." She interrupted his curious eyes with a deepened kiss, quickening her pace on his size.

"Fuck." He leaned against the wall, and watched Hermione finish him, the warm release ejecting onto her hand.

"Bloody hell." Ron groaned, panting heavily, "That was…"

She giggled, pecking him quickly and turning back around to start lathering again. It seemed that the previous one had rendered rather futile. She heard the shower curtain open followed by the door and let her brain roam back to the world where it was just her and the water, no cake, no awfully expensive dress, no décor, no wedding.

Why in the world would people choose to do this?

* * *

Hermione scooted deeper into the love seat, buried in an Ernest Hemingway, as it let her slip away into the timeless tale of The Old Man and the Sea. Ron had left early, and the blissfully silent day had been just what she needed, drinking tea and catching up on her reading without any disturbance.

Just then, the front door opened, and she heard him enter but didn't bother greeting him, her favourite part was coming up.

Instead, he felt the need to interrupt her anyway.

"Hello, hello future wife."

"She is currently busy."

He chuckled and went over to kiss her on the head, "We have some mail it seems like, right from the ministry."

She groaned, probably just Kendra micromanaging her day tomorrow before it had even begun. "Can you open it for me?"

"Of course, m'lady." The witch finished her page before realizing that Ron hadn't spoken again.

"What is it Ron?" She finally glanced up from her novel and found him still staring at the piece of parchment. "Ron?"

"It says that my fiancée won couple of the year with Draco Malfoy." He looked up at her with a confused look, but she could see the underlying anger and insecurities looming.

"Ron, it was a joke I swear." She dropped the book and approached him cautiously, reminding herself that she was fine, perfectly fine, so why was the pit in her stomach back.

"Ron, please listen to me, Daphne entered us as a joke, it means nothing."

"You said that Daphne doesn't even talk to you, and now you're saying that she entered you in a competition?" His hand was clenched around the parchment and he seemed like he was trembling.

"Yes, both of those things are true. Ron, why would I lie?"

"I just need to – calm – I just –."

Hermione went to place her hand on his arm, to comfort him and remind him that she was _here_ but her touch broke some precarious balance Ron was trying to reach and his magic roared from his body, throwing her back.

Hermione quickly assessed her injuries, nothing severe, nothing she could feel right now, and trudged back to him. She could fix this; they would be fine. Careful not to make physical contact, she began, "Ron I'm fine. The magic was an accident, I know, come back to me. Please come back to me." She could feel the tears dripping down her cheeks and the plea in her voice was indistinguishable.

"An accident?" he roared, "What I'm that bad at magic that I can't even control it?" He was fully shaking now, his face red and clenched into pain, "You think I'm so stupid, you filthy little witch."

"Ron." She croaked, "I don't, I swear."

"STOP LYING. You think I don't notice the pity in your eyes when you play dumb for me. YOU DON'T THINK I NOTICE THAT MY GIRLFRIEND THINKS I'M STUPID?!"

Hermione instinctively reached for him, she had to bring him back, but he shoved her away again, physically this time. Just when she thought it was over, that he had gotten the rest of his anger under control, he whipped around, arm raised.

She saw a fist heading towards her face.

Pain is a funny thing. The injury or root cause of the pain can occur so suddenly that it may be a full couple seconds before the bearer has even felt the aftermath. Specifically, injuries to the head, nose or jaw area can jolt the sinus, altering amounts of oxygen and blood the brain receives, ultimately leading to black out, all before the bearer has even realized that an injury has taken place.

Hermione knew all of this of course, but still, before the pain came or the realization hit, the brightest witch of her age could not comprehend why her world was dissolving into a pool of darkness with her fiancée's shaken face at the center.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay so I know that cliff hangers are disgusting and I would hate me if I were you but it was necessary okay? Or maybe it wasn't and I'm just evil? *evil laugh*
> 
> Thank you for making it this far and let me know what you think! I'm dying to read some reviews. 
> 
> Also, massive thank you to crushedroses for reviewing almost every chapter, it means so much.
> 
> *kisses*


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione tried opening her eyes, but they seemed swollen shut. Like she'd put her head inside a bee's nest. As sleep left her and the events of the previous night unfolded, the witch realized that _everything_ hurt.

Her back was aching, her arms felt like lead and a thumping pain was coming from of her face, near her nose. The pain slowly turned piercing as Hermione returned to the real world. Her lungs felt like they were collapsing, inhales feeling futile.

_Breathe, Hermione, breathe_

She felt an arm nestling her into a broad chest, one that her body was quite familiar with. Hermione could barely make out her surroundings through the eyes that were now just slits but the cinnamon aroma filling her nostrils was indistinguishable. Hermione could feel her memory foam mattress under them and realized that he had brought her to bed.

A disgust grew as his scent overwhelmed her and she fought off the urge to gag; nevertheless, the scent kicked in her fight or flight response and one single goal beat through her chest.

_Get out._

The heavy breathing near her ear told him that the man was in deep sleep, thank god. The witch spent the next ten minutes over an eternity. She would move a centimeter out from his grasp, freezing until she was sure his breath was steady to move another…and another. Any change in his breathing and Hermione's heart would freeze, like even it knew that waking him up was not an option.

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Hermione stood from the bed, glancing at the man lying next to her. His face was in peace, deep breaths indicating a blissful sleep. Hermione willed herself to hate him, to look at his face and feel only disgust but her brain wasn't complying.

His freckles reminded her of summer days with him at the burrow; his wide arms were hugs that she could get lost in and his hair became the countless times she had run her hands through as he fell asleep on her lap. A single tear fell from her eyes before she shut them, pushing out all the memories and bringing forward just one, his face as he made the decision to raise his fist at her. Hermione focused on that, convincing her body that that was the reality, that was the only man she knew.

Hermione turned without sparing him another glace, working off the adrenaline her body was releasing once reminded of her danger.

She needed her wand.

Hermione tiptoed to where she remembered it last, feeling around for the familiar thin wood but with sight still minimal, it was long minutes before her fingers found her wand, seconds before her world starting to dizzy. The adrenaline must've been wearing off and her body was coming to terms with her injuries. The witch feared she would blackout again, who knows what _he_ would do if he found her trying to leave.

 _You need to go now._ A voice said…was it hers? She wasn't sure; her legs were turning into lead and her head weighed a million pounds.

Hermione followed the voice, leaving the front door of her flat and…what now? Where could she go?

_Anywhere but here._

Harry's? No, how would she explain…Hermione felt exhausted. What if she just took a break on her steps? Just for a little while. The houses around her were closing in on her, the sky falling. She was just going to sit for a second.

 _112 Kent._ The voice said. _Now._

Hermione shut her eyes, okay, okay. She could do this. The witch called upon her apparition, willing to dissolve into nothingness as a stream of chants went through her head.

_112 Kent, 112 Kent, 112 Kent, 112 Kent, 112 –_

The world around her caved and she wasn't sure if this was her passing out or following the voice, it was just black.

She painfully entered reality for the second time in what felt like minutes except her body was significantly sorer. The blinding pain in her face had subsided to an ache but could she – yes if she opened her eyes, she could see significantly more.

Hermione felt underneath and realized she was on a mattress again. Fuck. Ron brought her back. She needed to leave.

She grunted, pushing off the bed, not caring about noise and tumbled onto the carpet; go Hermione, go.

Wait, carpet? She didn't have carpet. What in the –

"What are you doing?"

Hermione startled into the floor, her body panicking. But it couldn't be Ron, this was a woman's voice. She painfully pushed herself on her back, searching for a body, finding one near the edge of the bed.

"Who – where…"

The woman approached her, putting something soft under her head, "You're safe. You need to rest."

Who?

Hermione faintly recalled trying to apparate to an address someone had told her, but her brain had stopped caring the minute it heard that she was safe, and her world blurred into darkness again.

Bugger.

The sleeping witch groggily woke to murmurers and whispers around her. Her instinctive curiosity heightened her hearing as she zoned into the conversation.

"She's been asleep for too long. You measured the draught wrong."

"I am able to perform my job exceptionally well Ms. Greengrass, I would urge you to remember that."

"I would urge you to remember that I will get you sacked if she does not wake up shortly."

There was a pause in the women's voices and then,

"According to my calculations, she will be up any minute now." Hermione heard footsteps approaching her and she stilled, allowing her breath to even.

"Well, she's not, so, either your calculations are wrong or –

"Ms. Granger, welcome to reality. How was your sleep?"

_Shit._

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings. The room felt mostly dark, but Hermione could see faint light coming in from windows to the right of her. A face appeared before her eyes, interrupting her sight.

"Ms. Granger, how do you feel?"

Hermione knew she had seen this woman somewhere, but she couldn't exactly place her until the woman answered her bewildered expression, "I helped with your wrist a while ago, I don't blame you for not recalling."

"Healer Tringh." Hermione's throat ached, her words coming out horse, "How long have I been here?"

The other woman answered, she was across the room and held none of the welcoming expression that the healer had, but rather, her face was quite set. Daphne. "You tumbled onto my front door three days ago; you've been in and out of sleep since then."

Hermione absorbed the information, _three days?_ She was sure her injuries couldn't have been that bad, "Why that long?" She asked the Healer.

"You had a severe concussion, a broken nose, displaced eye and a bruised tailbone, all of which was made much, much, worse by the apparition."

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to recall the night her brain had already started putting into her box. She recalled being pushed into the wall twice but that couldn't break her nose –

She gasped as the memory of his fist came, and the panic bloomed.

Ron had punched her.

"Try not to push too hard Miss Granger, the memories will return eventually."

Hermione scoffed weakly, "I won't be forgetting that any time soon."

The Healer nodded with tight eyes, looking back at Daphne and speaking softly, "She will be fine, physically, but keep an eye on her emotionally. Any sign of panic attacks, memory loss or anything out of what should be expected, send me an owl."

Daphne nodded and the healer let herself out, leaving only her and Daphne in the room.

"Right," Daphne said, "Hungry?"

Hermione's stomach turned unpleasantly at the sound of food, "No."

"Well, I'm not having you pass out on me again so you have to eat something."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Why even bother asking if I'm hungry then."

Daphne sneered and left the room. She assumed Daphne would be back with some nasty food but ten minutes later, Hermione heard a distant shout, "Do I look like a house-elf? Get your ass in here."

She groaned, gingerly removing her sheets with minimal movement. She didn't feel as sore as she remembered but her joints felt rusty, like they hadn't been used in years. The witch carefully placed her feet flat on the grey carpet, testing her weight on them. They held. Hermione inhaled and stood up fully, walking towards the door, each step taking as much time as 10 normal ones.

"GRANGER GET –

"Merlin's beard, I'M COMING."

Hermione gradually made her way to where she thought Daphne's voice originated from, following the scent of food. Her flat was bare – to say the least. There were no portraits, no décor, no curtains, nothing that made it feel like home. Hermione located the kitchen fairly quickly and found a scowling witch eating at a table with one single chair.

"Home-y," Hermione commented, and Daphne snorted.

"It does its job." She quickly transfigured a chair on the opposite side of her and Hermione gracefully accepted by plopping down.

"Ollie made stew," she said, calling over a bowl with thick, brown soup heaping with substance.

"Ollie?"

"My elf."

Hermione nodded, making a mental note to talk to Daphne about elf rights in the near future.

Daphne gazed at her as Hermione took a gulp of the stew. It was one of the best things she had ever tasted, thick with substance but light enough to keep her nausea quelled. Hermione ate each bite slowly, counting to chew exactly 62 times to help with digestion, something she recalled reading in an Ayurveda textbook.

Daphne picked away at her own, giving the energy that she wanted to say something but kept deciding against it. Finally, as Hermione swallowed the last spoon, she spoke, "Granger, uhm...what happened?"

Hermione looked at her, sighing, this conversation was bound to arise at some point. She responded quickly, "Nothing. He got mad."

"About what?"

"Uhm…" Hermione wasn't sure if she should mention that the anger had technically originated due to Daphne's nomination but her persistent eyes loosened her tongue, "A letter came. It said Draco and I had won the ministry couple award."

Hermione watched as Daphne's face soaked in the information, was there a sign of guilt? Regret? The unfamiliar emotions on her face stirred something in Hermione. This was too different, too much change.

"It's fine," Hermione's discomfort said, "It was bound to happen one way or another."

The was another uncomfortable pause where she returned her gaze to her empty bowl of stew. Why had she eaten so fast, why couldn't Daphne had asked earlier, it would've at least given her something to do with her hands.

"I'm sorry." Daphne whispered.

Hermione looked at her gaping, that was an unexpected turn of events…

Daphne continued with an embarrassed face, "I – uh – was mad at Draco. We were kind of seeing each other since Hogwarts, on and off, but when the case started, he called it off. He just became so caught up in – Look, I knew that nominating both of you would get a rise out of him...so..."

Hermione stared at her, confused about what to say. "Okay…and did it work?"

Daphne smirked, "Definitely, he basically said that he hated me and never wanted to speak again so yes, technically, it was successful."

The witch sat, eyes wide, a smile pulling at her lips before a giggle escaped. Hermione clapped a hand on her mouth, "Shit."

Daphne stared. For a second Hermione thought that this was where she would be told to leave but instead, Daphne threw her bread loaf at head, "Bitch."

Hermione burst into giggles, the witch in front of her joining her laughs with an eye roll.

Maybe Daphne Greengrass was alright.

* * *

"Just come, it might be fun."

"I sincerely doubt that Daphne."

"What else are you going to do, mope around here again."

"Hey, I am perfectly deserving of a few moping days."

"You've already had 2."

Hermione sighed, there was no convincing her otherwise. "Fine, I will come for 45 minutes."

"Three hours."

"What? One and a half. Final offer."

Daphne grinned, "Deal. Just so you know, I would've accepted one."

Hermione rolled her eyes, walking back to her guest room as Daphne followed, "Unless I can wear the same clothes I wore here, I've got nothing"

A glint grew in Daphne's eyes as her gears churned, "Oh, this is going to be fun."

The dark-haired witch rushed away to her own room, no doubt to pull the most insane dresses off her shelves while Hermione sighed, looking at the mess that was her in the mirror.

She hadn't had the energy to maintain any part of her appearance and her eyebrows had become one, her hair returning to double the natural frizz. The past four days had blended into one ache filled, nap saturated, blob and Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had showered, let alone shave anything.

Well, it's not like anyone was coming to the party that she necessarily had a need to impress but general hygiene was still a must. Her thoughts flitted quickly to Ron, before Hermione shut her eyes, putting him back in her box.

She had allowed herself no time to think about him, still unsure of what she wanted to do. The wedding was barely a week away, and all deposits were placed. Should she call the whole thing off? Did she want to? Hermione felt the faint pressure in her chest threaten to grow at the questions - No, this was a tomorrow problem. Tonight, she would drink.

She had done as much progress on herself as she knew how, with freshly removed hair from multiple areas, some goop on her eyelashes and a shower followed by finger coiling her wet hair made the bush on her head significantly more manageable.

Daphne entered her room with a wicked excitement, "Good, you don't look homeless anymore. I found the perfect dress."

Hermione reached to grab it, but she swatted her hand away.

"No, put it on before you see it."

Hermione rolled her eyes and with a disgruntled _okay_ stripped so Daphne could help dress her. The witch was tightening and pulling various areas of the gown until, with a final nod, she turned Hermione towards the mirror.

She could only gape. She looked like she was wearing the sky, the dress flowy with effortless sparkless that grabbed onto all the right places. The thin straps made her collarbones look…good? How could collarbones look good?

Hermione felt a breeze on her back and turned to see that it was completely backless, with the fabric pooling at her tailbone until it stretched tight against her rear.

"This is…too much," Hermione said.

"You mean that for the first time in your life, you don't look like a toad."

Hermione sighed, that much was true. "Okay, I guess. But I'm not going anywhere sober."

"Have you met me?"

* * *

The women arrived outside the hall late and slightly tipsy. There were people huddled along the outskirts of the massive building but still, the constant stream of people entering did nothing to lessen the amount herded on the outside. So, this is what a Slytherin reunion looked like…the Gryffindor ones had always been a picnic or outing, with Quidditch happening on one end and a potluck on another. Never anything as extravagant or loud or so densely packed.

"You told me it was a small reunion," Hermione said, looking warily at the general size of the public.

"Coward," she scoffed, "I thought you're supposed to be brave."

Hermione gulped audibly, "I've been struggling on that end lately."

"Come on." Daphne grabbed Hermione's arm, half dragging, half guiding her to the doors. Just entering the hall took ages, with every second person stopping Daphne to say hi or gawking when she introduced Hermione. She almost felt naked with the slippery lightweight fabric and had to take the effort to not hide her _clothed_ body with her hands.

She was sure more people would've stared at her had she been recognizable, but the dress and excessive amount of time spent on her hair had transformed her. Maybe she even looked like a Slytherin.

"Daphne!" Called a voice and Hermione stopped herself from groaning. Why did Daphne have to know so many freaking people. They both turned at the sound, following it to Blaise's grinning face. Hermione herd Daphne gasp and watch them almost run to embrace. She had known they were close, but _that_ close?

She was about to duck out of the crowd, let them have their privacy until Daphne ushered her over.

"Blaise, you know Granger of course."

She watched as the man's eyes widened, almost popping out of his skull.

"Hermione! You look…"

"I know, I know, I look great."

"You always look great but today, today you look enchanted."

Hermione smiled, blush spreading to her cheeks, "Blame Daphne for that."

"Yeah, you should have seen what I had to work with," Daphne started, "Hair a mess and –

"Oh, be quiet." Hermione spat, slapping Daphne's arm, "It's nothing compared to what I've had to deal with, with the dull décor and the constant shrill –

"I should have just left you on the sidewalk." Daphne finished with an exaggerated roll of her eyes and slight grin.

"Wait, Hermione's staying with you?"

Daphne's face went immediately cold. With no semblance of expression, she simply stated, "Yes."

Blaise must have recognized the change in tone to mean something Hermione was unaware of because he took in the response and immediately said, "Let's get some drinks yeah?"

Hermione was comfortly snug into a squashy chair, outside the main party, with Blaise and Daphne bickering about the ancestry of some pure-blood family that must've been important. Hermione had to admit, this wasn't half bad. She had decided on wine, and the warmth had made the thumping of the music and her companions almost enjoyable. Of course, just as she came to this realization, another Slytherin entered their space.

"There you guys are! I've been looking everywhere," Pansy Parkinson stated. "Come on, we're in the back."

Daphne glanced at Hermione inquisitively, questioning with her eyes if this is something she was up for. She knew that Daphne had given up a lot of her night already, sitting in this secluded corner so, for the sake of the Slytherin girl who had been too considerate already, Hermione nodded slightly.

Pansy led them around the middle of the party, through a dark hallway, and into a dimly lit room. There were about a dozen people already there, mingling, chatting. The room had a vibrant energy, one she hadn't experienced since Hogwarts.

"There they are!" Someone called and all attention diverted to them.

"Who's the girl?"

"Is that –

"No –

"Granger?"

Hermione found a blonde Slytherin staring at her in shock before he supressed it to slight curiosity.

"Come on guys," Blaise said, "Let's show the Golden Girl what a party is."

Everyone whooped and surrounded Blaise and Daphne, clapping their backs, hugging, catching up. Hermione discretely slipped away, analyzing the individuals present from afar. She could recognize a few, Milcent Bulstrode, Marcus Flint, Theodore Nott, while others looked familiar but she couldn't place their name.

"You changing houses Granger?"

Hermione smiled, she was wondering when Malfoy would question her arrival, "Like you guys could handle a Gryffindor."

"Oh, I could handle it alright." He said. She could feel his gaze on her and she turned to give him a look but was taken a back by how piercing his gaze was. The flush of his skin and deep breathing indicated that he had consumed quite a bit of alcohol himself.

"Don't go making promises you can't keep." She muttered back, his eyes flicking to her lips and then slowly taking in her body. His lips were parted slightly as his gaze travelled back to hers. The pupils dilated, making the naturally light grey look almost black. Hermione's nostrils filled with him and she felt her heart beat faster.

A large roar of laughter interrupted their moment, and he came back to himself. She looked away, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.

Hermione had to consciously think away everything that was churning. How did he do that? How did he make her feel incredibly guilty before anything had even happened. Hermione knowed she owed Ron nothing except, technically, they were still engaged.

No, tonight was her night to forget, she would not let Ron ruin her one night out. Hermione looked back but Malfoy had disappeared. She smoothed out her dress and tried on her most approaching look. She would at least try to be social for the time remaining she had promised Daphne.

Hermione's face seemed to work, and Marcus Flint approached.

"It really is the Golden Girl, I thought they were mistaken."

"In the flesh. Marcus, how are you?"

"Ou, are we going for the pleasent sociable Gryffindor today?"

"I'm always sociable."

"Of course you are. You seem to have half the Slytherin house wrapped around your finger."

"I'm not sure what you –

"I do wonder how you managed it. A potion? A charm? Maybe you're looser than expected."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, _looser?_ What the hell was he talking about.

"Did you take one too many bludgers to the head? You were never great at Quidditch"

Marcus' face dropped, his mouth turning into a snarl, "Don't forget your place, Mudblood." He spat, "How does it feel to have everything handed to you because Scarhead picked your ugly ass in first year? What if he hadn't? You'd be nothing."

"I still would have picked the right side during the war." She kept her face cold, voice even, hiding the emotion bubbling that had been waiting to be let out for days.

He opened his mouth to counter, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to suppress the tears for long and the stupid bastard would think they were for him.

"Excuse me, I have better things to do than talk to a Death Eater." She left him standing there, not bothering to linger for a response and walked as calmly as she could towards the door of the room. She could feel hot tears on her cheeks, already fallen.

Hermione felt a hand pull at her arm, but she shook it off, continuing outside the room and finaly stopping when she reached a portion of the hallway where both parties seemed distant. Hermione leaned against the wall, letting the tears overflow, trying to inhale through them.

_Come on, just breathe._

Hermione stayed against that wall for 57 breaths exactly before leaving for the bar. She needed another drink.

It was blissfully quiet here, with only an older gentleman sitting with his fire whiskey.

"The strongest thing you have please." Hermione said to the bartender. He simply smirked and poured her a thick, black shot, topping it off with a blue tint.

Hermione was about to question the contents when she realised that she really did not care and took it down in a gulp. She was surprised to find that it didn't burn her throat at all, instead an intense heat suddenly spreading from her navel. She felt light on her feet and the thumping of the music wasn't deafening but made her want to dance.

"THANK YOU!" She screamed at the bartender, his flinch at her words made her question her pitch but oh well!

She made her way to the dance floor, feeling the vibrations take over her, her heart synching with the beat. A giggle burst from her as she jumped with the music, arms crazy, no care in the world. She could feel the stares from people around her, some people even came over to dance with her…behind her? But for all Hermione knew, she was alone in this world, just her and the music.

She was only a few songs in when she was being dragged away.

What, no!

"I'm not doneeee, Daphne!"

"I know, I know. Just drink some water and you can go back." A man spoke.

Who in the –

Hermione focused her eyes on the head attached to the arm leading her away and realized it was a blonde boy. There was only one with that hair, she would recognize it anywhere.

"DRACO! HELLO!"

"Bloody hell."

"Where are we going?"

Draco abruptly stopped, the witch tumbling into his back.

"HEY!"

He pushed her down into a chair and handed her a cup. Hermione stared.

"Sir, this is empty."

"Wait, I'm getting my wand."

She finally let herself notice his appearance, his hair was wilder, longer, with more pieces framing his face, and less greased back. He was wearing a black shirt that fit snug over his top, Hermione could almost make out the individual muscles on his arms, with its sleeve rolled up deliciously.

"You look nice."

"You are drunk."

She giggled as he filled her cup and pushed it towards her mouth, not letting go until she had finished the whole thing.

The difference was immediate, the water diluted the effects of whatever the bartender had given her, and her head became clearer.

"Woah. Uhm…thanks." She glanced up at him and his concern was instantly replaced by amusement.

"Do you find it enjoyable to get plastered in my presence? I'm afraid it's becoming a pattern."

"Do you find it enjoyable to stalk me? I'm afraid _that_ is becoming a pattern."

"Well, your fiancée never seems to be around to make sure you're not dying," he sneered. Hermione's breath hitched as Ron was shoved to the forefront of her brain. She couldn't do that again, she clenched her eyes, focusing on the box.

Go inside, please go inside.

When she opened them again, he was watching her curiously. "What, you got dumped?"

"Shut up Malfoy."

He stared at her for a second longer before turning to leave but the stupid vow she had made to herself about never letting him walk away shouted the words: "No, stay."

Draco turned, not moving back towards her but not moving away either. She thought about getting up to go back to the party, but the thumping of the music made her head ache and it was so quiet here.

"If you want to," she quickly added.

He gingerly nodded, "Well, there's nothing better to do," he plopped down in the seat next to her.

They sat in silence for a while. Hermione was surprised at how pleasant it felt: companioned peace.

Draco spoke up first, almost a half hour later, "Let's get out of here."

He stood up and held out a hand for her to grab. Hermione wasn't sure if it was the left-over booze in her system, the thought of going back up to the room that was dreadful, or that she just enjoyed his company, but she reached out and closed her fingers around the cold hand, letting him lead her away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh my apologies in the delay for this chapter. I realized that posting every two days meant that I was doing none of my actual school work so updates will probably follow a weekly schedule now.
> 
> Also, WE'RE AT 50 KUDOS. That's crazy. Careful, or it's going to go to my head. Maybe it already has?
> 
> Anyway, I hope the chapter was okay! Please, please let me know what you think:)
> 
> *kisses*


	8. Chapter 8

"You are gravely mistaken Malfoy, if you believe that The Monster Book of Monsters holds an inkling to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."

"Not just an inkling, it is miles better when considering the amount of detail that is given on the specific care of the animals."

"Okay, still, Fantastic Beasts covers a wider variety of animals and at least its title doesn't insinuate negative connotations regarding the animals in the book."

"What are you on?" He questioned.

"The title! It literally calls them monsters –

"Are you missing the _beast_ part of Fantastic _Beasts_?" Draco asked.

"Are you missing the _fantastic_ part of _Fantastic_ –

"So, it's fine to call you a _fantastic_ mu…." He trailed off.

"Finish the sentence Malfoy." She dared. He huffed and walked faster down muggle London. She wasn't sure how long they'd been walking but looking at how much the moon's position had changed; it had been a while.

Hermione let him throw his little tantrum and speed walk in front of her until she finally gave in and jogged up.

"Shit, I'm out of shape." She said panting, reaching him.

He snorted, "You and Weaselby don't work on that stamina?"

Hermione rolled her eyes; the second reminder of her fiancée didn't hurt as much as the first, but her face must've shown something that made Draco question, "What happened there, Granger?"

She sighed, could she trust him? Mentally going through everything that happened from his angle was pulling Ron further and further out of his box.

"I'm too sober for this conversation," she finally said. Malfoy chuckled, reaching into his coat.

"No one said you had to be," handing her a flask.

Hermione glanced at it, her box threatening to burst open made her take the first swig but the fact that she was here, with a Slytherin that had a superiority complex, and not hating the encounter, made her take the second, and third.

"Jeez," he grabbed the flask from her.

"You're too chicken to drink too, Malfoy?"

"You're the chicken." He muttered, finally taking a long swig.

"Are you an alcoholic now?" She questioned after a beat.

"You are literally losing your mind. _You're_ the one that was drunk not an hour ago and _you're_ the one that asked –

"I'm talking about how you're carrying a flask filled with fire-whiskey in your coat."

"Has it not come in use tonight?"

"Why are you avoiding the question?"

"Why can't you just ask the question you want to ask?" He countered.

"Do you answer all questions with questions?"

"No."

She groaned. Hermione wanted nothing more in that very moment than to trip his arrogant ass. Maybe he would just fall himself.

_Trip, trip, trip, trip._

He chuckled, "I'm afraid it will take a lot more than one flask for me to lose my balance. Not everyone can be you."

What the – Had she said it out-loud? She wasn't that drunk yet…meaning…

"Are you _reading_ my mind?"

"Don't flatter yourself, you were basically yelling it at me."

"You're a Leglimens? How?"

"I've been getting training for as long as I can remember. The Malfoy family must keep its secrets." He ended bitterly.

"Oh…then why didn't you offer when I needed one for Occlumency training?"

"You just assume that everyone wants to be in your head?"

Hermione scoffed, "Obviously that's not what I mean, but you should've brought it up."

"I _shouldn't_ have to do anything."

"God, I just mean that it would have been the nice thing to do."

"I'm not sure if you missed the memo, Granger, but being _nice_ is not very high on my list."

"Whatever Malfoy," she said. How someone could live their life with no regard for those around them was baffling to her. They walked down the deserted London subdivision for a few long seconds in silence before he spoke again.

"It's just – not how I wanted to...uh…"

Hermione glanced at him as he took another swig of his flask. The way his Adam's apple bobbed, and his jaw clenched was fascinating for some reason, even more of interest to the heat growing in her stomach. But that was just the alcohol, of course.

Hermione grabbed his flask before he took another gulp, downing a large mouthful.

"You say many things that make no sense." She said matter-of-factly.

He gave a hollow laugh, "That's a good thing," before grabbing the flask back.

She wasn't sure when the drinking had become a competition but suddenly the flask was empty and all there that was left were two very tipsy wizards, utterly lost in the streets of wherever the fuck they were.

"We should…" Hermione started, threatened by a wave of dizziness that made her forget her sentence.

"Huh?"

"Ummmm…" She trailed off, no thought making sense in her mind. They were holding onto each other now, both dreadfully close to causing a combined face plant which would only be made worse by the dress tangling at her heels. She could barely walk straight in shoes.

"If I fall –," she hiccupped, "Blame Daphne."

"Why?"

"This stupid – dress – her idea."

"Remind me to send her a card."

"You want me to trip?" She asked. It wouldn't be that surprising.

"No, you nincompoop. It's...you don't look terrible."

"YOU LIKE IT?" She glanced up at him, the thought making her dangerously dizzy.

"I am a man." He simply said.

She giggled into his shoulder, "Draco Malfoy likes my dress."

He snorted, "Hermione Granger just giggled."

"Hey I giggle a lot…well…I used to...before...at Hogwarts!"

"English becoming difficult Granger?" He chuckled. Hermione made no effort to counter, focusing simply on the path ahead of her. One step in-front of the other.

"So, what changed since then?" He asked.

"Huh?"

"Why have you become a bore since Hogwarts?"

"Ummm, maybe it was because - how my parents forgot my existence and it was my fault. Also, maybe that - how people that I loved died around me." She stated.

"Shit...way to bring the mood down."

Hermione smacked his stomach playfully...his _hard_ stomach. Fuck. She didn't pull away immediately and he looked down at the contact. Staring for a second before gulping audibly and physically moving her hand away.

"Uh…"

Hermione's cheeks burned at the almost rejection. "Well," she spat defensively, "You were rude…and don't even try to act like _you're_ the same person since Hogwarts."

"Why must you make everything a competition."

Hermione huffed, "I'm just saying that I told you something so now it's your turn."

He sighed, rolling his head slightly, "You've read the papers: my parents are in Azkaban and I'm a Death Eater."

"You're not still a Death Eater." She stated.

"Once a Death Eater…"

"No."

He looked down and made eye contact with her stubborn gaze, holding it as her neck heated, and breaths became shallow. They were so close now, if she just moved a little closer, their lips would –

He cleared his throat, whipping his face away but the movement was too sudden for Hermione's leaded feet and she toppled, clutching Malfoy tighter for balance but instead pulling him down to the ground with her.

"AGH." He yelled, their legs entangled into each other, "I've been attacked."

"Dramatic! It was an accident!" She protested, pulling them apart but unable to stand back up. Instead, she sat on the curb of the empty, dark road, inspecting herself for any cuts or bruises. "And you were the one that jumped like you got electrocuted," Hermione tried evenly but she could hear her voice waver with the hint of the second rejection in one night.

He groaned, putting his head in his hands.

The sound pulled out the common sense buried under the alcohol, what was she doing? She was engaged for one, and two, two, this was _Malfoy_. The man who had called her a mudblood, been part of the reason Dumbledore was dead and had terrorized her best friends their entire childhood.

She would _fail_ a test before she would ever let Malfoy think that _he_ rejected _her_. Silly of her to believe that he'd want to do anything different anyway, he'd looked at her with disgust ever since she had first locked eyes with him sitting under that sorting hat.

"I just meant that you moved like a sporadic chicken, so this is your fault; not that I wanted anything other than to be a mile away from _you_." She said with as much bite as she could muster.

He looked up and she thought she could see a hint of hurt in his face but that might have just been the blurriness of it before he looked back at his loafers, kicking away a rock. Should she say something? She had expected at least a sarcastic comment back.

Hermione thought of a way to quell any suspicion of her _wanting_ his contact and she blurted it out the second it came to mind: "Are you coming to the wedding?"

He scoffed, still staring at his shoes, "I don't recall getting an invite."

"Well, consider this one. You did buy the dress after all."

His eyes shut tight, and for the first time, there wasn't bitterness or a smirk but he just looked tired.

"You'd like for me to come?" He asked.

Hermione pondered this for a whole minute before answering. One, was there even going to be a wedding? Two, did she want him there…Hypothetically, if there was a wedding, him being there would no-doubt cause issues with Ron. But, if that wasn't the case…Hermione almost laughed…if the guy she was _marrying_ wasn't in the marriage, then yes, she believed she did want him there.

But, Ron would, of course, be there.

"Probably wouldn't be the best idea." She finally answered

Confusion bloomed on his face, followed by an expression she couldn't place.

"Why not?" His voice was quiet but the underlying hope was detectable, what was he expecting?

"Uhm, you're a sore topic between Ron and I."

"Why?"

"God, the questions."

"If I'm the topic of any conversation between you and Weasley, I think I have a right to know."

She scoffed, the _audacity,_ "You have no such _right_ actually. And anyways, it's too hard to explain."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that…" She groaned, her box was opening and there was no stopping it. How was she supposed to put into words all of the reasons he wasn't a friendly topic?

"…you're a…touchy…subject because of everything you did at Hogwarts," she gave him a pointed look before continuing, "and he's been having some... _issues..._ controlling his emotions when you come up."

He was watching her when she looked up, analysing her face to pull out more than she was giving. How much was she willing to give up anyway? She was tired of the lying, of having no one to talk to this about. Technically, she could talk to Daphne, but she barely knew her, and Daphne didn't know Ron from before. It wouldn't be the same.

Hermione was exhausted of putting Ron back into her box, but could she trust Malfoy?

"Elaborate." He stated, eyes piercing. The intensity scared her; this was too much already. She wasn't ready for this.

Hermione looked down her hands, picking away at her nail, "Nothing, forget it."

"Hermione," he said, voice level, "What does he do?"

"Uhm…it's nothing, he just has spurts of anger and sometimes…I just get in the way."

Hermione looked up to see Draco's face scrunched in confusion, "You get in the way _how_ exactly?"

"I don't want to talk about this." She stated, eyes burning.

Malfoy grabbed her face, pulling her gaze back to him, "Then show me. Let me in."

Hermione gulped; his face was so close to hers. Her body, her brain was aching to give in. To just have him know everything that was weighing down her chest. "Can I trust you?" She asked.

He whispered, "Yes."

"Okay," Hermione finally said, against her better judgement, taking the lid off of her box, tears already swelling, "Okay. Do it."

" _Legilimens_ ," he breathed.

The witch relived her worst memories again, for the third time, but this time it wasn't just her alone or the piercing eyes of Daphne, but rather the presence of Draco and it made it all a little easier…a _little_ ; the snap of her wrist, still caused panic to bubble up. The whimpering as Ron entered her giving her a flush of humiliation and finally the hit that brought it all to today.

Hermione expected Draco's distaste, but not the rising anger she felt so strongly that she thought it was hers. Draco exited promptly when the memories ended, his face seething, jaw clenched, eyes narrow.

He lifted his hands from her face gently, clutching them to his sides into fists.

His voice was strained when he started, "You are not getting _married_ to him."

It was a question more than a statement; she saw the desperation in his eyes as he waited for her affirmation.

"That's none of your business."

"FUCK THAT." He yelled.

Hermione startled at his outburst and he was suddenly ten feet away, seething.

"YOU ARE SERIOUSLY MARRYING THE FUCK?" He demanded.

"I DON'T _KNOW_ WHAT I'M DOING. WHY ARE YOU YELLING?"

"BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU WERE SMART." He took a breath before continuing, "How can you not see this?"

"What Malfoy, what can I not see?"

"He _obviously_ doesn't love you, let alone the fact that he would probably end up KILLING you."

Hermione gasped, how dare he, "You. Don't. Know. Anything."

"I know that you are behaving like an insane person."

She didn't say anything. Instead, she letting her tears flow out of her eyes and continued picking at her nail.

"Is this what love is to you, Granger?" He pleaded. "Getting punched? Getting _raped_?"

Hermione's tears were gushing down her face, "Fuck off." She spat. It was a full minute before anyone spoke.

"You could have told me." He whispered.

"We aren't friends."

"At the conference room, you could've said where the cast was really from, I would've, I could've…"

"What Draco? What could you have possibly done?" Hermione's voice was rising again, how dare he make this about him.

"MORE THAN JUST SEND A HEALER."

"WHAT? RON SENT THAT HEALER."

Draco rolled his eyes, pacing, "I just used his name, so you'd trust it, I DIDN'T KNOW HE CAUSED IT."

"You sent the healer?"

"God, you're slow for the bright –

This whole time, she hadn't known. Assuming Ron did was half the reason she went back to him in the first place. It had been Draco this whole time?

"I'm going home." She said, her brain throbbing after the alcohol and Legilimency. She rose to walk back from where they began. She would apparate when she was far enough from the houses, but he clutched her arm before she was out of reach.

"If you THINK that I'm going to let you go back to that piece of –

"Let me? You – You have no right to –

"If you're going to be such a bonehead and go back to him then –

"Not that it's any of your business but I'm staying at Daphne's."

"So, you did leave him?"

"I just needed some space. Let _go_ ," She spat.

He made no move to let go of her arm, and just sighed. Hermione felt the hot hair at the base of her neck, goosebumps rising. She felt him come closer behind her.

" _Please_ Granger, you deserve -

She snatched her arm out of his grasp and apparated to Daphne's right there.

_Fuck this._

She arrived a moment later, her skin still burning from the contact. Hermione almost looked back to see if he was still there, but she couldn't tell which answer she wanted more. Her heart ached and the feeling made her hate him. Fuck him for adding more to her plate, fuck him for making her feel this way. She would've apparated back just to say something that hurt him even half as much as she had, if she only knew where to go.

Instead, she made her way to the door, surprised to find Daphne's light still on. It must have been almost 2 in the morning.

"Hello?" She called, walking in.

Daphne popped out her head a minute later, "Oh thank Salazar, I thought I was going to have to send out a search team."

Hermione let out a weak laugh and followed her into the living room, falling, exhausted, on the couch.

"Where'd you go?" Daphne asked.

"I couldn't tell you. W – _I_ just walked around for a while."

She didn't say anything back, just closed her eyes and tilted her head onto the rest.

"Can I ask you something?" Hermione broke the silence.

Daphne gave a small nod.

"Why did you help me? I mean, you didn't even question me going back to him, you just offered, and you, you barely even knew me."

The Slytherin came up to gaze at Hermione, finding a burning curiosity. She sighed, a sadness coming over her face before she looked away, deep in thought. It was a full minute before she answered.

"It's not a pleasant story." She warned.

"I wouldn't trust it if it was."

Daphne gave a weak smile before starting, "I didn't have the best childhood Hermione. My dad, he had these bursts of anger. Rarely, only a couple times a year, but when they happened, it was terrifying. My sister and I, we would hide under her bed waiting for it to pass."

Hermione said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"It always did, the moments. He never did come looking for us or rather, he never even lifted a finger at us but my mother –

Daphne's voice cracked, her eyes glistening with tears before she continued with a hoarser voice.

"My mother was always near him when they happened. She would say something or do something and it would just set him off. Never anything deserving of course - not that there could be anything...but I always wondered why she didn't come join us. Or just leave and come back later but after, I realized that it was so he _wouldn't_ look for us." Tears were now dripping down her face, Hermione wondered if she should comfort her somehow.

"I asked her when we were all older why she didn't leave him, and she said that she couldn't. He was all she knew. And that even if she could, she had nowhere to go." Daphne glanced back at Hermione, wiped away her tears and said with determination, "I just wanted you to have what...what she didn't, a place where you _could_ go. I was scared that saying anything about why you're still with him might have scared you away."

Hermione hadn't noticed her own tears had started flowing until she felt the coolness on her cheeks.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Granger, you know that you deserve better right? You know that you can't go back?"

Hermione just stared, she didn't know anything any better than when she had first arrived here and lying to her in this moment felt wrong.

Daphne's face fell and she gave her a curt nod before promptly exiting the room and she let her go.

Instead, Hermione walked slowly towards the guest room, sitting stiffly on the bed. The wedding was now exactly seven days away and while she didn't know what to do, she knew she wouldn't find the answer staring at the four walls of an unfamiliar room.

She had to go home. She had to be brave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people! Sorry for the short chapter! For the sake of not leaving it at a cliff hanger or starting a scene I couldn't finish, I decided to end it here. Maybe the early upload makes up for it? No?
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think - especially about the banter/Draco convos, that's a new field for this fic.
> 
> Have a great Sunday!
> 
> *kisses*
> 
> ps: we hit 100 kudos and I'm in shock, what the heck??? You guys spoil me


	9. Chapter 9

The witch arrived bright and early at the familiar street of her flat, the constant mantra that reminded her to breathe, passing through her mind.

He probably won't even be there; he probably wouldn't have stayed behind. But if he did? What was she supposed to say? The uncertainty fed the pressure on her chest.

She would have to just walk in, before she lost the ability to inhale, preferably.

Hermione opened her door, tensing at the potential inhabitant but the stale air and deafening silence announced an empty apartment.

" _Homenum Revelio,_ " she muttered, validating her belief.

The witch finally let herself take in the familiar surroundings. It looked different for some reason: the bright yellows and reds that previously reminded her of everything Gryffindor had gifted her were hurting her eyes and the throw blankets, pillows, and squashy cushions were almost laughable. Had she really felt that comfortable here?

A chill went down her spine as she continued to make her way through the living room. Hermione lingered at familiar trinkets, touching her old life as she went; the subdued ache in her face reminding her of why she couldn't forget everything and just come back. Her eyes burned as she recalled her happy self. When the worst person in her life was Kendra and when the biggest concern was completing a case.

When had it all changed? What had she missed? Hermione thought back to the first time she doubted him, the first shove. But surely, he couldn't have just become that person out of nowhere. There must have been hints along the way. She grabbed parchment and walked with a plan to her dining table. This was just another mystery to solve, and she had yet to come across one that had indefinitely stumped her.

Hermione started writing out everything that was of concern regarding her fiancé, the major events first but then little ones that she hadn't realised she had tacked away.

\- _Throwing me into a wall when suggested of not being of value_

\- _Assault when realizing I was seeing Malfoy for the case_

\- _Saw ministry couple of year was me and Malfoy and punched me_

\- _Jealous enough of Malfoy to ask me not to see him again at the cafe_

\- _Horcrux hunt: Barging out of helping Harry because he thought him, and I were secretly dating and assuming it was my responsibility to acquire food_

\- _Still holding a grudge about Krum_

Hermione wrote under her list: _insecurity enhances jealousy that ultimately manifests into outbursts including distancing from friends, verbal comments and physical –_

She stared for a second before writing out the word. _Abuse_. Might as well accept it as it is.

The witch waited for that switch to click in her mind that would tell her to run away from all of this and leave it behind…except it didn't. A part of her, unwillingly, was defending Ron: doesn't being jealous just mean that he loves her? Next time, next time would be different. She could walk away and wait for him to calm down or just be super careful about what she did. She didn't have to give up Ron, they could figure this out.

_You loved him, and you still do, you've just forgotten._

Hermione put her head in her hands, the two sides of her brain arguing, giving her a headache. Had she forgotten? She walked to a dusty box at the top of a self and levitated it towards her, pulling out a large, messily binded, scrapbook Luna had given her after the war. She hadn't given it much of a look with the pictures containing Fred, Tonks, Remus and even Dumbledore. They were just too hard to get through.

Except, maybe now it could give her some clarity. Maybe seeing Ron and her together would spark something.

She carried it to her reading chair and settled in, opening the thick murky gold cover. Hermione took her time on every page. Watching the pictures loop until she had every angle memorized, reading every word in the newspaper clippings, the captions Luna had attached and thinking back to see if she remembered the moments.

Luna had somehow captured _everything_. She must've asked every person she knew if they had any photographs.

Hermione relived snowball fights, quidditch cups, common room parties, Halloween feasts and dinners at the burrow and she felt a longing for her previous life so strong that a lump formed in her throat. What had changed?

It wasn't long before her answer came glued onto a page. It was another picture taken in the common room but contained just her and Ron.

Their Hogwarts selves had parchment splayed around them and he was staring at Hermione, hands clutched like he was praying. Young her was rolling her eyes at him before she finally grabbed his essay, but the amusement was clear as day on her face. Her lips naturally upturned into a smile.

Hermione thought back, remembering the night. He had spent all day working on his Transfiguration paper after Hermione had put her foot down and said that he would not help. For how would he learn? After watching him struggle all night and hours of begging, she had agreed to read it over and make minor adjustments. Except they both knew that this meant she would basically rewrite it for him.

Hermione glanced back at the image; even with the exasperated expression and the fatigue in her eyes, she could see the love. Not just at Ron, but at life in general. There was a spark in her that Hermione had forgot existed. _That_ had changed. She watched the loop for ages, eyes focused on just herself. She seemed so happy, so driven, and she had no one but herself to blame for it disappearing.

The witch straightened; that was a _lie_. She had Ron to blame. Sure, she could have left, but he also could have not hit her, or lie to her, or manipulate her into forgiving him. He could have been the guy that she fell in love with. This was not her fault.

 _This is not your fault._ She repeated.

In that moment, the witch decided that there was no way in hell she would allow him to take any more of her. She was done. There would be no more forgiving, no more sacrifices, she would live just for herself now and she _would_ get the spark back.

 _That is decided,_ she told herself, _there's no going back._

That might have been true for Hermione Granger if, in that moment, an owl had not knocked on her window. Maybe if she had not been there at that time, or if the contents of the letter the owl was carrying were different, maybe she really would have been done.

But alas, she opened the letter, the scrapbook falling to the ground as she read that she was requested at St. Mungo's as a Ronald Bilius Weasley had been brought in and her name was the last thing he had muttered before falling unconscious.

Hermione froze. The witch stared at the letter, waiting for it to combust or disappear. This had to be a prank. But no, it remained in her hands, threatening the precarious progress that she had made just moments before.

She finally got her bearings and made her way to the apparition point and squeezed through the air to St. Mungo's. Later, she would not remember how she had made her way from her flat to the hospital clerk's desk, nor would she remember the moments before the reception of the letter for a chunk of her memory had blanked to darkness.

"Weasley," she stammered, "I'm here for Ronald Weasley."

"Are you family dear?"

"Fiancée."

The woman nodded and touched a folder with her wand and said _Ronald Weasley_ with a clear voice. A parchment zoomed out, landing perfectly on the desk. Hermione watched anxiously as the women read through the sheet.

"He was brought in this morning, with extensive injuries – the Healer will go over the exact ones with you but he's on the ground floor, just down there," The witch pointed at a white, brightly lit hallway, "In room 47, dear."

"Thank you," she gasped before she ran down the hallway, crashing right into a man in a blue coat.

"Woah!" He said, "You're in a rush."

"Yes, sorry, I just need to –

She pointed over his shoulder at the room that had a 47 above it.

"Ms. Granger?" He asked.

"Um, yes?"

"I am Healer Jones," he reached out his arm for her to shake but she just stared. He revoked his hand with no hesitance and continued, "I've been looking over Mr. Weasley's care this morning. Am I correct to assume you would like more information on the injuries."

She simply nodded and he gave her a small smile before speaking.

"Ms. Granger, please know that he is in very capable hands. Thankfully, none of his injuries are life threatening but he has many broken appendages, a collapsed lung, some internal bleeding in the abdomen and a concussion –

Hermione's world blurred as her brain absorbed the Healer's words.

"Would you like to see him?" The man asked. Hermione thinks she might have nodded for he was ushering her into a room a moment later. Her eyes fell to a body in the room. She almost opened her mouth to say that the Healer was mistaken, this wasn't Ron. But as she stared, she could still make out the speckle of freckles she had memorized and the tinge of red in his hair. Hermione would have collapsed if it wasn't for the wall she was holding on to as her eyes roamed to Ron's face that was just an array of blue's and purples, his chest that was bandaged, his left leg that was in a cast, along with both of his arms and the bandage wrapping around his head.

"What happened?" She whispered, unable to take her eyes off of him.

"We are not sure. He refused say anything except that he had to find…you."

Hermione choked out a sob and fell back against the wall.

The healer continued, "We expect a full recovery as most injuries are external. Though there is…

He trailed off.

"There is what?" She turned to look at his grave face.

"There is a slim chance that Mr. Weasley might stay asleep for a while. The body wakes up on its own and it's not something that can be forced with magic without the chance of brain damage."

"You mean…he might just stay like this?"

"It's possible but please Ms. Granger, do not get too worried. He has only been out for a couple hours, which is to be expected with the extent of his injuries. The most that you can do at this point is be there with him. Speak to him, happily. Encourage him to waken. He seems…quite infatuated with you."

The healer gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and left Hermione in the room. She walked over to Ron, gently caressing his cheek, scared that anything more might break him.

"Please wake up Ron." She whispered, "Please wake up."

* * *

_six days_

Hermione had spent the last 36 hours awake, constantly making sure that Ron was comfortable. Not that he could give any feedback. She had sent an owl to Wales and the Burrow, letting them know and spent the rest of her time conversing with the mangled body in front of her. She talked about Daphne, stews, books she had read, Slytherin parties (leaving out Malfoy, of course), and anything and everything she could think of. Healers had come periodically, checking his diagnostics and encouraging her to get some sleep.

It was quite annoying really; she was doing perfectly fine.

* * *

_five days_

Molly, Ginny and Harry had arrived but the rest of the Weasley's had been harder to track down. Still, the ones present were obsessing over Ron, asking the Healer questions she already knew answers to. Hermione had dosed off for a while and then chastised herself for it happening. She continued to stare at him, making a one way conversation whenever they were alone. His bruises were almost healed, and the healer said that with another day, the potions would take effect and the casts should be able to come off.

* * *

_four days_

His hair was darker, or had it always been? She had started reading a quidditch book to him.

* * *

_three days_

Molly had left and Arthur had replaced her along with George. Harry said he had to get back to work and Ginny had a match. His casts were off, and color had returned to his face. He almost looked normal.

* * *

_two days_

She had finished the book and started another. This one was fiction, and she would add her own comments in so hopefully he knew that she was still there.

Where had he gotten that shirt?

* * *

_one day_

A man came, a brain Healer he called himself, to examine why Ron wasn't waking, even though, physically, he was mostly recovered. He didn't know.

"Have you spoken to him?" He asked her.

"Everyday."

"And what do you say?"

"Everything. I've been reading to him lately."

He nodded, "I see. There's not much else we can do then."

"There must be. I'll try anything."

He looked at her with a tired expression.

"Ms. Granger, sometimes when the brain doesn't wake up, it's because it doesn't want to. At times, because of the fear of what's waiting for it. Can you think of any reason why Mr. Weasley would be scared of waking?"

Hermione shook her head even though a glaringly obvious answer was flashing in her mind.

He nodded and exited the room after promising to do another check up tomorrow and telling her not to give up.

Tomorrow…her wedding day. She hadn't even written any owls to cancel it. If only she had known this is where she'd be when she accepted the proposal. Hermione glanced back at him, a heavy thought dawning on her. There was one thing she could try…for did she really have a choice?

Hermione walked over to Ron's side, something that had become routine lately but this time, she leaned down to his ear, almost kissing it as she held his hand while speaking softly, "The Healer thinks that you might be scared of what will happen when you wake up. Don't be, okay?"

She waited for him to show any sign of movement or responsiveness, but there he lay, as always. Hermione continued, "We'll figure out who did this together. We can work through anything."

Was that –

No …

Did his hand just twitch?

Hermione delivered the final blow, "You have to wake up Ron, for we're getting married tomorrow."

Okay, his finger had definitely just moved. Hermione analyzed his face, "Ron?" She said with hope.

His eye lids fluttered slightly, and he let out a groan. Hermione could have passed out from relief.

"Oh my god, Ron, Ron. Thank Merlin, I was so worried. They said that magic wouldn't work to wake you and then –

Ron muttered something but Hermione missed it.

"What?" She whispered, lowering her ear so it was almost touching his mouth.

"You're going to chatter me back into a coma." He said.

Hermione broke a grin and embraced him into her arms. He let out an oomph before sighing.

"Hey 'Mione." He croaked.

"Hello," she smiled, straightening and looking at him. His eyes were barely open but other than that, he looked healthy.

"How long have I been out?" He asked.

"Six days."

Ron gasped slightly, his eyes opening wider, "The wedding –

"It's tomorrow," Hermione said, too grateful for him to allow the nagging thought of an alternative to be given the floor.

"And you still want to…" He asked, face wary with fear.

Hermione simply nodded, adding an, "Of course," with a preppy voice.

His face flooded with relief. "You won't regret it, I swear." He tried to sit up but groaned and settled with just holding her hand, "I'm so much better now Hermione. I went back to the clinic and was doing really well. The Healer himself had discharged me and I was on my way back before…" he trailed off and his features darkened.

"Before what?"

"Before I got attacked."

"What? By whom? Do you remember?"

He snorted, "Do I remember? It was the git. Malfoy," Ron spat.

Hermione stared, had she heard that correctly?

"Malfoy?" She said with a small voice.

"It was like 3am I think and I was at a pub, waiting for morning when he walked in, looking all angry. I didn't even say anything Hermione, but when he looked at me, I don't know, he just got all tense for some reason."

"Anyway," Ron continued, "A little while later, I was leaving to just wait at the flat and he followed me into the street! I turned to ask him to piss off, and he just started punching me, out of nowhere. I couldn't reach my wand, so I started on him too and before I knew it, we were just brawling. And then I was here."

Ron finished panting, like the conversation had taken something out of him. Hermione had no trouble clicking the pieces. So, Malfoy had taken what she had told him in confidence and used it as an excuse to beat up his childhood adversary. She clenched her fist to avoid showing her anger facially.

"What a git. Listen, you should rest. I'll send a Healer in."

Hermione left without another look and sent the first person in a blue coat she saw towards his room. She thought it was a blue coat at least for she was seeing red as she marched towards the apparition point and for the first time in her life, she felt an urge to spit – tasting the bile at the back of her throat.

The fuming witch arrived at _his_ flat shortly after, not even realizing that showing up to his place, after she had only been there once, months ago, would be odd. Hermione banged on his door, no hesitation or pauses. She heard scuffles before the hated Slytherin opened it.

"Bloody hell, what do –

Hermione's fist made a satisfying thwack against his jaw.

"OW, what the fu –

She went in for a second, meeting the already reddening spot again.

He didn't move this time, just watched her panting.

"Are you finished?" He asked.

Hermione gave a disgruntled affirmation and turned to leave before asking him what she thought, was just one quick question, "Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

She turned to look at him. His face looked almost bored, no sign of having been punched by the same witch twice.

"Don't play dumb," She said.

He sighed, "You seriously expected me to just let him be?"

"Why would I expect anything else?"

"You need better friends," he said.

"That's not good enough."

"What?"

"That's not a good enough reason to pummel someone." Hermione stated.

He rolled his eyes, "What do you want from me Granger?"

"The truth."

"You seem to already know what that is." He said, crossing his arms.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why else would you come here and basically assault me. Because I beat up your boyfriend? That's not you."

She scoffed, "You don't know me."

"I know that you have a theory."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, what was he on? "Well, I think it was quite low of you to take what I told you as an _opportunity,"_ she spat, "to achieve some goal of yours to beat up Ron."

"That's what you think of me?"

"That's what I know."

He rolled his eyes, "You're so stupid –

"Then what _possible reason_ –

"Because I –

His face flashed momentarily in pain but then it evened to the same bored expression, showing no sign that he wanted to finish his sentence.

"Fuck this." She muttered, turning to leave. She had a man waiting for her, one that needed her.

"Are you marrying him?" She heard from behind her but didn't stop walking.

"Granger."

She kept going. 20 feet till the end of the hallway, 15 feet, 10 feet –

"Hermione, stop." She halted, her name clenching her heart.

"I don't have it in me for a fight, Malfoy."

"So, you are marrying him?"

She heard him approach and didn't argue when she stood in front of her, but didn't glance up when he started speaking.

"You were supposed to be –

"Well, I'm _not,_ " She spat, "This is who I am and I don't care who you think I'm _supposed_ to be."

"I can't leave him," she continued, "He needs me and he's trying to get better. Really trying. Who would I be if I didn't give him another chance?"

There was a pause before Draco asked in a bitter voice, "What about what _you_ need?"

"I need him too," Hermione said but with faltering conviction. When had that stopped becoming a fact?

He whispered, full of bitterness, "I envied you, you know. How you stood up to people twice your size, twice as powerful, without hesitation. How you were brave and smart and, and always _annoyingly_ right. But now, I don't even know who you are." Hermione said nothing as his words sunk in, tears dripping down her face. "You're nothing but a _coward_ ," he finished.

Hermione finally glanced up, his face was one of hatred, of disgust but she could still find the plea, the desperation that she would change her mind.

"I wish I had never met you," she whispered, hoping that it would hurt.

His voice was even, no hint at surprise as he answered, "The feeling is mutual."

She pushed past him and left to go back to her fiancé.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Happy Saturday! Day early update sooo hopefully you guys don't kill me with this chapter. It needs to happen, I swear!
> 
> HUGE shoutout to orangedice for literally reviewing almost every chapter, thank you thank you thank you.
> 
> To all of you that are still here, reading my procrastination pieces: I'm so so grateful *crying*.
> 
> I hope the writing was okay:) Don't forget to let me know what you guys think!
> 
> *kisses*


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloo readers, I don't usually do notes before the chapter but I had a few things I wanted to say:
> 
> I've been getting many comments lately (across all the platforms this fic is on, not just this one) talking about how Hermione's smart and therefore she wouldn't fall for Rons lies/she would be smart enough to leave.
> 
> I think it's VERY important for me to point out that speech like this is dangerous. It perpetuates the idea that the reason women get stuck in these relationships is because they are too stupid, or missed the signs or just naive - that it is generally THEIR fault. This is, of course, wrong. These relationships are extremely hard to leave, even for people that are 'smart' and pushing the blame on the victims is dangerous and can sometimes be the reason people are too scared to ask for help. To continue, there are other factors at play and it's never as easy to leave as people see it to be from the outside.
> 
> To reiterate: The only person to blame in this fic for the abuse is Ron and his issues, NOT Hermione's intellect.
> 
> With that, here is chapter 10. It was the first chapter I wrote when planning the fic, and I'm so excited to finally share it.

"Hermione, wake up."

She groaned. She had been having a dream, a good dream, where she was a kid again, waiting for pancakes her dad was flipping. Maybe if she just kept her eyes closed, it would come back –

"Hermione!"

She woke up with a gasp, almost head-butting the red-head witch that was shaking her awake.

"Ginny!" She exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"

"It's your wedding day! Honestly, Hermione –

She gasped, had she slept through it? "Am I late?"

"Almost! It's 7 in the morning and you're not even in Wales yet!"

Hermione regarded her friend's face, waiting for the punch line but one never came, "Ginny!" She exclaimed, "We have _hours_."

"THAT'S BARELY ANY TIME, we have to do your hair, your makeup, get your …

Hermione drowned out Ginny's voice rolled over, groaning. Tonight had been the first night she'd been able to get some actual sleep. Ron was still at the hospital for monitoring, but the healers had assured her that it was just precautionary and that she should get some rest. ("It's bad luck to see each other on our wedding night anyway, 'Mione." Ron had said.)

Ginny was having none of it, she pulled Hermione off of her oh-so-comfortable bed and shoved her into the washroom.

"YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES BEFORE WE LEAVE FOR WALES." Ginny yelled from outside the door, "I WILL STUN YOU AND DRAG YOU IF I HAVE TO."

Hermione glanced at herself in the mirror, and did some bare minimum getting ready: hair pulled back, teeth brushed, face washed, and clothes changed in less than 6 minutes.

"Alright," she said coming out. Ginny gave her a once over, her face moving to a look of dissatisfaction before leading her outside where Harry already was, with what looked like her wedding dress in hands.

"Harry!" She went to hug him, but Ginny pulled her back.

"No wrinkling the dress."

Harry gave her an apologetic look before Ginny grabbed their arms and apparated to Wales. If she didn't know the witch by now and had been prepared, she was sure she would've gotten splinched.

The trio had barely landed before Ginny was running to the house, shouting about last minute decorations and explaining that Bill would be bringing Ron later.

She looked around the foggy city and realized that while the place looked exactly the same with the hills, cliffs, and greenery, it was barely recognizable. There was a massive purple tent set up on her right with lanterns and tables, along with a stage. Hermione guessed this was the reception area, realizing the aisle was to her right, with rocks layered down on the grass to look like a path, between two rows of benches.

There was no arc, or stage indicating where they'd be saying their vows, but she guessed it was because the cliff scenery of Wales was plenty.

"It's gorgeous Harry, you guys did all of this?"

Harry smiled sheepishly, "We had help, of course, with all the Weasleys. And Molly wouldn't let anyone sleep last night."

"They're already here?" Hermione said just as she heard the telltale _My dear!_ from the house. A plump, red head woman was barreling towards her.

"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione greeted as she was thrown into her embrace.

"Come, come, we have much to do," Molly said, and Hermione let herself be led into the chaos of the household. There were Weasleys everywhere, hugging her, questioning her, and even more running circles around her with large purple and gold decorations. She knew the extended family was large, but this would make anyone's head turn.

Hermione noticed Harry drawn to the side, magically folding place cards in a corner and she let out a breath. At least she wasn't alone in this. Hermione picked up a batch of place cards and begun creasing them.

Harry gave her a small smile, "It's a lot sometimes, all the people."

"Yeah, I don't know how you do it," she said.

His gaze travelled to Ginny as she was yelling at George for attempting to sneak dungbombs into the wedding.

"It's worth it," Harry said after a second, "But…I recommend taking any opportunity to relieve yourself from the household, should one arise."

She stared at him inquisitively while he gave her his I-have-something-planned look.

"Ginny!" He called after giving her a final side-eye, "Who's picking up the cake?"

Ginny gasped dramatically, "THE CAKE! I almost forgot."

"Don't worry, Hermione and I have got it." He yelled back, adding a muttered, "Go, go, go," to Hermione.

She didn't need any more convincing and slipped out the back as quickly as possible, with Harry following a second later.

"Where are we picking it up?" She asked him, following him away from the house.

"I already picked it up this morning," he winked at her.

"Harry!"

"Oh, what are you going to do? Rat me out?"

"Oh…of course not, but still…", she said.

"Come on!" He grabbed her arm, "You haven't even seen Wales yet."

She followed Harry, apparating to the outskirts of a colourful little village, one that almost looked like a cardboard cut-out of an ancient fishing village. They grabbed tea in a vintage little tearoom run by the sweetest couple; they had gelato at an ice-cream parlour with twinkling lights all overhead and finally had lunch at a place genuinely called _The Sloop_ and Hermione cherished every minute of it. She had missed just exploring areas with her best friend and for the first time in what felt like weeks, she hadn't thought about Ron at all.

That is, until he came up in conversation.

"So, you must be excited that you finally get to sleep with Ron." Harry said with a grin.

"Harry!" She slapped his arm and he chuckled.

"What?! I don't know your beliefs on the matter."

She rolled her eyes at him, "Ridiculous."

They continued walking down the street, with Hermione taking in all of the little shops.

"Did you ever figure out what happened to him?" He asked after a beat.

Hermione's heart stopped when she thought he was asking about his behavioural change but Harry – with a confused face – clarified, "Like, how he got hurt?"

"Oh…right, um…it was Malfoy, actually."

"Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?"

"How many Malfoys do you know Harry?"

He stared for a second, "But why? After all this time?"

Hermione didn't say anything which Harry must have taken to mean that she didn't know the answer.

"Well, have you reported him? To the authorities?"

"What, no," she stated, backhandedly.

"He almost _killed_ Ron, Hermione…why wouldn't you?"

"It's not necessary, I took care of it." She said, suddenly finding great interest in a blue cafe.

"Not necessary? Hermione, I'm not trying to tell you how to deal with it but I really think that –

"That's _exactly_ what you're trying to do. Stay out of it."

That was evidently the wrong this to do as Harry stopped walking then, and started, enraged, "STAY OUT OF IT? He's my best friend and you don't seem like you care that he almost _died_."

Hermione whipped around, furious, "You don't think I _care?_ Are you kidding – you don't think that I spent the last week staring at him, conversing, trying to wake him up, pretending LIKE HE COULD EVEN HEAR ME. Don't you dare tell me –

"Okay, okay," Harry said, hands raised, "I shouldn't have said that you don't care. But I still don't understand."

"You don't have to understand Harry, I just need you to trust me on this."

"I trust you."

"Okay then," she sighed, "Let's get back before Ginny has a hernia."

* * *

Ginny looked like she wanted to kill both of them when they finally got back and was now taking her anger out on Hermione's hair. She tried not to complain, scared the red-headed witch would actually explode.

"HERMIONE!" Harry called from the kitchen.

"WHAT?"

"THERE'S AN OWL FOR YOU."

An owl? Who was writing to her here? She glanced at Ginny in the mirror who was wrist deep in her hair for permission to go and Ginny just yelled in response – almost deafening Hermione, she might add – "BRING IT HERE POTTER."

A letter dropped in her lap a minute later. It had her name on it but she couldn't place the writing. Hermione opened it to find it was from Daphne. Daphne! She had forgotten to let her know about everything happening, she just had up and left that morning. Shoot.

Hermione read on.

_Granger,_

_If you're reading this then that means you're obviously not dead and thus, I will be killing you. Consider this the warning. WHO UP AND LEAVES WITHOUT A NOTE? I swear, you're the reason I hate all Gryffindors._

_Anyways, I ran into Malfoy earlier and he filled me in. Jeez, your life is a mess. I then realized I never answered your wedding invite, but I'm sure by now, you've concluded that I will not be attending. I had hoped that you would see some sense but considering you have not, it is too hard to sit by and watch you celebrate the union. I hope you can understand. Actually, never mind, I really don't care. _

_Always,_

_Daphne_

_Ps: Did you punch Malfoy? He wouldn't say but if so, consider me proud._

She felt a pressure in her throat as she read, realizing that she had expected Daphne to be here, without question. She was the one person there who would know the truth about everything and it was supposed to get her through today and now that she had bailed – Hermione inhaled, forcing the emotions back. Who knows what Ginny would do if she ruined her makeup? She glanced back up at the mirror and found the red head's curious eyes on the letter.

Hermione quickly folded it back into the envelope. This day would already be hard enough without explaining what Daphne had meant, let alone why she was writing to Hermione. She let her finish putting a million lotions on her head until it fell down her back it perfect waves and Ginny was satisfied, letting herself a second of rest until she looked at the clock.

"30 minutes Hermione! Into your dress, _quickly!_ "

Hermione went to change, delicately weaving herself into the dress. She glanced at the mirror, expecting that rush of emotion again. That feeling that it was exactly the right dress she was supposed to be in, except it never came. It was a beautiful dress, mind you, and Hermione could barely recognize herself, but it felt...off.

She wondered if it was the same one she wore at the store – it must have been, it looked the same. She stared for the longest time, just taking in her wedding day attire. Shouldn't she be more excited about today? What was wrong with her?

Ginny barged in before Hermione could let herself over think too much, yelling something about how it was almost time until her words were cut off by Hermione's appearance. Ginny's eyes filled and she ran into Hermione, embracing her.

"You look so beautiful Hermione," she said, stepping back to take a joyous look at her work, "I never said but –

Her voice cracked as she continued, "- I couldn't hope for a better sister."

"Awh, Ginny," Hermione said, "You've been the sister I never had, and I'm so grateful."

Ginny wiped away a tear and then threw a napkin at her, "You get one tear out of that eye, I will personally Avada you."

Hermione gave her a small smile and Ginny exited leaving Hermione staring at her reflection again, expecting something different this time, except it was exactly the same.

"HERMIONE!"

She gave herself a last look before leaving the dressing room. There were significantly less people than she had expected in the house, with only Harry and the immediate Weasleys (excluding Ron) present.

"Where is everyone?" She asked as a bouquet was shoved in her hands.

Ginny rolled her eyes as Molly smiled, "They're seated dear."

George came up from behind and shook her shoulders, "Time to get you hitched!"

"George!" Came two separate voices and Molly sushed everyone.

"In formation," Ginny called, "Let's get this show on the road."

The Weasleys lined up first, each in a pair with Bill and Fleur, Percy and Audrey (whom she had barely met but she seemed nice enough), Charlie and George, Molly and Arthur and finally Ginny. Harry came to stand by Hermione's side.

"Aren't you supposed to be walking Ginny down?" She whispered into his ear.

"Ginny feels as though you need the support more…do you mind?"

Hermione's chest calmed a little at the companion, "Oh Harry, thank you."

He grinned, "Someone has to make sure you don't trip anyway."

She hit his arm just as the first of the Weasleys begun exiting. Everyone went slowly, a whole minute passing before the next pair went through. Hermione's jitters grew with each second and Harry had to tell her to breathe multiple times.

She saw Ginny reaching the end of the aisle and moving to the side and her nod let her know it was time. Hermione gulped.

"Don't let go Harry." She spoke.

"When have I ever?"

They finally started making their way down, with everyone standing around them. She tried not to look through the crowd to determine who had made it for she was certain that would only end in a stumble of her feat. Instead, she looked straight ahead at her soon-to-be husband.

Ron stood looking dashing in crisp dress robes, his eyes never leaving hers. She waited for the jitters to calm with the knowledge that it was _Ron_ she was marrying, her best friend. But they did the opposite, each step brought on a new clench of her heart, so much so that her feet faltered and Harry had to steady her.

They finally reached the end of the aisle where she turned to stand as she had been instructed earlier. A ceremony official was behind them, holding a thick, old book.

He muttered a _Sonero_ before beginning, "Witches and Wizards, we are joined here today to celebrate the union of two very special individuals who first met over a decade ago on the Hogwarts Express. Little did they know that it would lead to this perfect day on a cliff in Wales. I've been told that they did not get along at first and even that -

_Granger,_ said a voice, _don't make a scene._

Hermione startled so hard her bouquet tumbled out from her grasp and the official had to pause as she grabbed it, muttering an apology.

Ron chuckled, "It wouldn't be Hermione Granger without some clumsy-ness," He said, getting a hearty laugh from the crowd.

Where had the voice come from? It almost sounded like it was coming from –

_Yes, your head Granger._

_WHAT ARE YOU DOING MALFOY_ , she screamed internally, GET OUT OF MY HEAD.

She saw movement from her peripheral of someone flinch, and subtly finding it, she realized a tall, brunette with a beard staring right into her eyes.

_Well, I couldn't necessarily come in my normal appearance, could I?_ He said.

_What the actual fuck. I'm quite busy here if you didn't notice._ She spat, looking back at the official.

"Marriage is about sharing experiences…", the official droned on.

_Just listen for once._

_Malfoy I'm –_

_LISTEN Granger._

_FINE. Spit it out._

Draco started, _Look, I know you think that you owe him something. That you need to be there for him and you can do that but –_

Hermione mentally rolled her eyes, _I'm not having this conversation right –_

_You don't have a choice. The sooner you let me speak, the sooner you can go back to marrying the Weasel._

Hermione said nothing and waited.

_As I was saying, you don't need to marry him to be there for him Granger. You can do that as a friend for fucks sake. You don't need to be the punching bag he takes his shit out on._

"…they've provided each other with the support they need to…"

_Look at me Granger._

_I'm getting married, I can't just –_

_LOOK AT ME._

Hermione let her eyes travel slightly to him, even under the disguise, she could see the familiar but annoying git she had become used to.

_Do you really want to be that woman, twenty years down the line staring at a broken home, bruised and hurt, not knowing how you got there, thinking that maybe, just maybe if you had taken a step right now, away from him, that it all could've been avoided. That your whole life would've been different._

Hermione's mind wandered as she pictured herself there. It was so clear because she had been there not long ago. Wondering how she ended up on the receiving end of him again. Hermione glanced at Ron. The guy that was supposed to be her end all.

_If he truly loved you Granger, why did he put you through all that. Why hadn't he left himself? Why had he kept coming back, knowing that any second he might snap again._ _You know I'm right just like you know that if you were him, you would have left._

His words sunk into her and as she realized that yes, she would've left. If for a second, she thought that her being there was hurting Ron, she would have fled, no matter the pain it caused her.

"Do you, Ronald Bilius Weasley, take Hermione Jean Granger, to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Ron stared at her with a burning passion. She knew he loved her, but it wasn't bigger than his insecurities or his anger, it wasn't enough.

"I do," Ron said.

"And do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take Ronald Bilius Weasley, as your lawfully wedded husband?"

Hermione could feel the whole auditorium staring at her, waiting for the expected words. She opened her mouth, but they wouldn't come out.

_Take the step, Granger,_ Draco said.

"Hermione?" Ron whispered, and it was that look. That look of shock with the bubbling of something dangerous that Hermione realized that it would never be different. She would be that broken woman wondering where it all went wrong if she didn't do something now.

_Be brave Hermione._

Her eyes travelled back to the crowd, searching, and she found him at the end of the aisle with his arm out, hand offering her an escape.

She looked back at Ron and he had followed her gaze to the man. She was sure he had already made his assumptions of what this was, for his face was contorted in disbelief and saturated with hurt.

Hermione felt her heart pang, she could feel her natural instincts telling her to stay. To do anything to wipe the hurt off of his face _but...fuck that._ Maybe it was because of all the Slytherins she had been around lately or maybe she always had it in her but suddenly, self preservation seemed like a great fucking personality trait.

She regarded Ron's mouth upturning with distaste and the anger in his face grow and it gave her the push she needed to look him in the eyes, mouth a final _I can't_ with a determined expression, hitch up her wedding dress and run.

Time slowed as her feet thumped against the stones. Each face she ran past was filled with emotions of shock, outrage and disbelief. One in particular, Mrs. Weasley's face, that was looking at her with disappointment and sadness, was burned into her brain but she pushed past it, focusing on the end of the aisle. She felt all eyes on her and heard someone give a _whoop_ , but she didn't turn back. For she couldn't risk it and right now, all she knew, was that she had to grab the cold hand just like she had before and escape this dreadful moment, and that's exactly what she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, anyone else have goosebumps? I can't believe we're finally at chapter 10, thank you for sticking with me - I'm looking forward to your guys' reviews!


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